


A Different Kind of Angel

by Tobi_Boone



Category: Phantom of the Opera (2004)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-01-21 15:36:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1555445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tobi_Boone/pseuds/Tobi_Boone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the final notes fade into silence Raoul is haunted by a Phantom and not just any apparition but the Opera Ghost himself until he can no longer stand it and seeks out the elusive inhabitant of the Fifth Cellar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Willful Entrapment

**Author's Note:**

> Um, this came about after a long rainy day listening to several different versions of the soundtrack in several different languages and yeah, one chapter followed the next.  
> ((Re-uploaded))

He traveled down the deserted passages until he came to the underground lake, he stepped into the small boat after changing his clothing, and poled himself to the Phantom's lair.

Raoul walked up the short bit of stairs, he had thought this through very carefully and it seemed that this was the only way out. The only way to escape his dreams of that face both exquisite and hideous all at once, to escape the powerful voice, those piercing, pleading eyes, and the feeling of hot breath on his face as a noose tightens around his bared neck. Erik was lying in bed, reading something (rather at ease considering what had taken place not days before). Raoul hesitated, he'd learned all he could from Christine but her knowledge was not very expansive, all he had was the Phantom's name and yet the mystery tugged and nagged at him until here he was, facing what used to frighten him and now only enticed him. The object of his inner turmoil and shameful fantasies was bare-chested and maskless, it took a moment before Raoul's presence was even acknowledged and when it was Erik's eyes widened in surprise,

"What are you . . . ?" But Erik trailed off in utter disbelief at the younger man standing there before him when not a week before he'd attempted to kill the Viscomte.

Raoul moved to stand next to the bed and let the top of his robe slide off his shoulders, lowering his eyes and trying to keep his erratic breathing under control. Erik blinked at him in surprise, slowly sitting up and swinging his long legs over the side of the bed, gazing up at Raoul, who was trembling despite his best efforts to suppress it. Erik raised an eyebrow, resting his hands on his knee, tugging at his pajamas pants thoughtfully, he gazed at Raoul's softer build, the line of hair that led from navel to where the robe was still held to his waist by the rope,

"Truly?" Erik tilted his head to the side, staring at Raoul with deep curiosity.

Raoul could only nod, fearing his voice would betray him and since he was already blushing all over, he didn't have to say anything to convey what the intense scrutiny was doing to him.

"Hm." Erik slowly reached out a hand, his fingers barely brushing Raoul's chin, the thumb tracing soft lips. He stood up, the height difference only served to make Raoul feel smaller and more vulnerable than he already was.

With a slow, practiced motion, Erik undid the rope-belt, setting it next him on the bed, the robe fell the rest of the way to the floor, exposing Raoul's naked body. Erik reached out his hand and rested it on Raoul's hip,

" . . . You have nothing to say?" Erik leaned forward, feeling Raoul's hands on his chest.

"I love you." Raoul whispered, his fingers sliding up to Erik's shoulders, gripping them tightly.

"Hm, that will do for now but I don't believe you." Erik tilted his head down and pressed his lips to Raoul's, a hand trailing between the younger man's legs, causing the Vicomte to jerk in surprise, his fingernails biting into Erik's flesh.

Erik pulled the younger man down onto the bed, he smirked, leaning over Raoul to kiss him again, his tongue sliding between trembling, yet willing lips while his hand slipped back to Raoul's groin, feeling the growing erection.

"Nnh." Raoul moaned, arching into the gentle touch.

Erik moved onto his back to slide the pajama bottoms off, then rolled back to his former position, this time moving his leg so that both were on either side of Raoul's hips. He ran his lips up Raoul's neck, savoring the sweet scent of the man's cologne, Raoul tangled his fingers in the sheets, panting out his arousal, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"No." Erik sat back, "Look at me."

Raoul opened his eyes obediently, biting his lip, "Al-Alright."

"Very good." Erik smirked, his hand intertwining with Raoul's, his other gripping Raoul's wrist, pushing his hands up over the younger man's head, stretching him out so that his ribcage rose above his stomach, his back arching. Erik leaned down, kissing the patch of hair on Raoul's chest, murmuring something that Raoul couldn't hear or understand until he realized it was in a foreign language, one he didn't know so it didn't matter anyway that the words were muffled.

Raoul's eyes fluttered as Erik's own erection brushed his leg, sending shivers up and down his spine, "T-Touch me . . . please . . .  "

Erik blinked at the strange request, he sat up a little, his hand releasing Raoul's wrist and planted firmly at the side of Raoul's head, he dipped his hips down, pressing into Raoul.

"Hagh . . . " Raoul arched again, his legs quivering with _want_ as they bent to push his hips higher.

Erik chuckled, "How long?"

"Since . . . Since I heard you sing for- hah- _Don Juan._ " Raoul moaned, "Y-Your voice it . . . it was so beautiful . . . I had to get her out of the way, to get you alone."

"So, you hoped that after she left, you could pour out your heart to me?" Erik chuckled, stroking Raoul's stomach.

"Y-Yes . . . I thought, if I could just talk to you . . . " Raoul gasped, still clutching Erik's hand in his own.

"How sweet." Erik murmured, "You are certain?"

"Yes! God, Yes!" Raoul moaned, arching into Erik again.

"Very well, _Raoul_." Erik whispered, sliding down on top of him, pushing Raoul's legs up to his chest.

Hearing Erik whisper his name was almost more than he could bear, "Ahh!"

Erik pushed inside, Raoul went rigid, his whole body tensing in quivering surprise at the heat that exploded from inside him, then Erik started to move. Raoul inhaled sharply, his head digging back into the pillows and his fingernails sinking deep into the back of Erik's hand. Erik grunted, holding Raoul's leg tightly to his waist, he bit down on the other's shoulder,

"E-Erik!" Raoul moaned, pressing back onto Erik's manhood, tears rolling down his face, until Erik let go of his leg and paid attention to his throbbing, aching erection, "Erik . . . "

Erik slowed the pace down to more gentle motions, enough for Raoul to calm down, his eyes heavy-lidded and his breathing became less difficult, Erik stroked the back of his hand with his thumb, looking into Raoul's eyes, moving in to kiss his chin, then both corners of Raoul's mouth, teasing him, finally their lips met, embracing each other with simple need.

"Would you believe," Erik whispered, reaching for the rope-belt, "That seeing you all tied up was very arousing?"

Raoul gasped as the rope was looped around his free hand, then his other, pulling them up to the back of the bed, tying them there, "You-You don't say?"

"Yes, knowing you were in my complete control . . . helpless." Erik smiled, lifting Raoul up into his lap as he sat up, Raoul's arms were held behind his back, "So helpless."

Raoul whined, his head pressing into Erik's neck, "Next you'll want a rope around my neck." He said it as harshly as he could but the very thought sent fire through his body and it settled down between his shaking thighs.

"That can be arranged, if I was willing to leave the bed, which, I am not." Erik chuckled, pushing his hips up into Raoul, pressing against a place that made Raoul cry out with pleasure, which seemed to amuse Erik immensely, "So responsive."

Raoul panted, straining against the rope, trying to get closer as Erik wrapped his fingers around Raoul's length, resuming the push-pull movement that led Raoul to the edge of oblivion, he was so close to ecstasy.

Then, Erik chuckled, "You are so beautiful like this . . . sing for me!"

With a final, powerful jerk, Raoul threw his head back and screamed at the rocky ceiling as he was finally flung over the cliffs into the dark abyss of nirvana, Erik growled, rutting out his own orgasm until both were exhausted of all energy. Erik untied Raoul and pulled him down to the bed, holding him tightly to his chest, stroking Raoul's sweaty blonde hair, taking his hand again. Raoul was almost sleeping while he snuggled into Erik's chest, silence filled the room as the final echoes of Raoul's scream died away.

"You seem quite . . . quite apt to love-making . . . " Raoul murmured, looking up at Erik.

"Giry told you my history, yes?" Erik mumbled.

"Yes."

"Well, my 'master' had to find other uses for me when we traveled." Erik shrugged.

Raoul propped himself up on his elbows, "What?"

"You heard." Erik blinked at him from where he was lying, his right side pressed into the pillow.

"That's terrible." Raoul whispered, reaching out his free hand to stroke Erik's face.

"Yes, well, that's life." Erik sat up, staring at him, "I learn to deal with things by closing myself off in my mind. You see, I pulled away from everything that happened to me, every hardship, every pain, every bit of torture, I was able to ignore to the point where I no longer felt anything, I just listened to the music in my soul and no one could hurt me."

Raoul rested his hand on Erik's thigh, licking his lips, "This can't last, can it?"

"No, unfortunately, it cannot, you have to go back to your glittering palace where your wife to be is waiting, you were never meant to be kept down in the darkness, down where there is nothing but shadows and silence." Erik murmured, kissing Raoul's cheek gently, "My world is no place for a prince."

Raoul swallowed, " . . . I don't want to go."

"You have no choice," Erik breathed, "Don't make this harder, Raoul."

The younger man bit his lip until it bled, "Please, you're a master at disappearing, please, make me disappear, make me vanish, I can stay with you and no one will ever know, we could be happy, I could make you happy."

Erik sighed heavily, tugging Raoul into his arms, "Hush, just for tonight, you will vanish from everything. Just for tonight, you will make me happy. Just for tonight, you are mine. But, when daylight breaks, you must go, as I said, you can never truly belong to me."

Raoul said nothing, he couldn't think of anything he could say, just reciprocating the hug, pressing his face into Erik's chest and breathing in his earthy smell, that would have to be enough.


	2. Broken Things

Raoul opened his eyes slowly and the first things he was aware of were that he was warm, comfortable, and someone was in the bed with him. Raoul blinked into wakefulness to the sound of that someone snoring  _ very _ loudly, the young man slowly turned onto his side and there he was, Erik, the Phantom of the Opera. Raoul had to take a moment to wonder about this, surely he was still in the peacock-bed and still underground, so . . . Perhaps this was not a dream?  


His hand reached out to stroke Erik's cheek, abruptly waking the snoring Phantom, “Sorry . . .”

“Hm,” Erik blinked slowly at Raoul, pinching the bridge of his nose and sitting up, “Is something wrong?”

“Uh, no, it's just . . . you were snoring.” Raoul sat up too, reaching out to wrap his arms around Erik's chest, resting his chin on Erik's shoulder.

“I was?” Erik raised an eyebrow and shrugged Raoul off as he got out of the bed and traipsed down the stairs to stare at the silent lake.

Raoul blinked, “Um . . . yes. Erik?”

Erik didn't look up, merely turned and went to pull on a pair of trousers from a wardrobe behind one of the velvet curtains, “What?”

Raoul flinched at how callous Erik was being, he slipped off the bed and pulled his robe back onto his shoulders from where he'd discarded it the night before (if it really was the next day or not was difficult to say, being underground he had no idea), moving to stand behind Erik, and watching the taller man dress, “I just . . . what does this mean?”

“What does _what_ mean?” Erik turned around, regarding Raoul indifferently as he set his wig in order, smoothing the black hair.

“This,” Raoul gestured between them, “What does it mean?”

Erik grimaced at Raoul, pressing one of his masks to his face, “I haven't the slightest idea of what you're referring to.”

Raoul's heart sank as Erik went back to his wardrobe, pulling his cloak onto his shoulders and subsequently ignoring Raoul's distress,

“But-”

“Well, let's go.” Erik held out his hand expectantly.

“Go?” Raoul stared at the proffered hand, part of him wanting to leap forward and cling onto it, but a louder part was still wary of Erik.

“Yes, Vicomte,  _ go.” _ Erik let out a long-suffering sigh, his tone condescending, like he was speaking to a child.

“Where?” Raoul backed up a step, distress quickly being replaced with a heart-wrenching dread.

“I'm taking you home, as I told you last night.” Erik ground out, gesturing for Raoul to  _ take his hand, now. _

“But-But, I thought-” Raoul started, but Erik grabbed his wrist in a grip that shocked Raoul.

“I said I would take you home and that's where you're going, dammit, stop fighting!” Erik snapped, trying to drag the protesting Raoul to the boat and knowing it would be incredibly difficult to get him to the surface in such a state.

“I don't want to go!” Raoul whined, knowing full-well that he did indeed sound like a spoiled child throwing a fit, but he was adamant about not being forced away, “I want to stay!”

“You can't!” Erik shouted, his voice cracking as it echoed around the cavern ceiling, his chest heaved and Raoul could see the Phantom's shoulders were shaking slightly, “You . . . just _can't._ Nothing good or beautiful can survive down here . . . I . . . “

Raoul stared at him, slowly, fearfully taking a step closer, his other hand outstretched to try and touch Erik's face, but the taller man turned away, still clutching at Raoul's wrist, “Erik . . . I  _ want _ to stay.”

“I told you, stupid boy,” Erik snarled, not looking at Raoul and instead pretending to be enthralled by his own shoes, “You can't . . . it will kill you . . . smother you like the darkness smothers all light . . .”

Raoul grit his teeth and set his jaw, “I don't care.”

Erik blinked and looked up at Raoul, eyebrow raised, “You may wake up and I won't be there.”

“I'll find you.”

“You may wind up back home.”

“I'll run away again.”

“What about Christine?”

“She doesn't want me nor do I want her anymore.”

Erik breathed in slowly, “Why?”

“Because . . . something beautiful and good did survive and I'm determined to find it and force it to see what I see.” Raoul said firmly, taking Erik's other hand, “Even if it does kill me, I won't abandon you.”

Erik slowly looked at Raoul, his brow furrowed in confusion, “After just one night? You're willing to throw away everything after  _ one night _ ? I don't understand, I was going to kill you if I couldn't have her, and now you won't go away.”

“I came back . . . I knew there was something when you let her go too. You are not a monster, Erik.” Raoul said softly, hesitantly approaching Erik.

Erik stared at him, “You are a strange person, Raoul.”

“No more strange than you, Erik.” Raoul stopped when they were toe-to-toe, he leaned his forehead down and pressed it to Erik's shoulder, breathing in the oddly pleasant earthy scent.

* * *

 

Raoul watched Erik as he painted, it was a wonderful fascination that Raoul had suddenly acquired and he found that he could sit for an hour or two, just watching Erik's hands as they painted, or drew, or played on his organ, it was so odd, but Raoul found that if Erik didn't look up agitatedly too many times, it wasn't a problem.

Erik set his brush down, glancing at Raoul, regarding him while tapping his chin as if in deep thought.

“What?” Raoul sat up a little straighter, suddenly quivering with anticipation, for what he had no clue, but there was an insatiable need to please the mysterious man now.

Erik looked at Raoul, then back at the painting (half-finished and obviously Christine), “Hm . . . “

“What?” Raoul leaned forward, looking at the painting too, trying to understand what Erik was looking at.

Erik took the canvas down and set it behind one of his tables, “I think I need a different subject.”

“Oh.” Raoul blinked, that made sense, why paint Christine if she was gone forever from them both?

Erik was suddenly standing very close to Raoul, still tapping his chin, “You know, I've never done a male subject.”

Raoul found himself blushing, “Is that a fact?”

“Yes, and it's been something of an interest of mine to acquire such a subject.” Erik went on, turning back to his paints, tapping the lids of them then selecting a small vial, holding it up for scrutiny.

Raoul smiled shyly, “I could do it.”

Erik smiled as he set the vial back into place, turning back to Raoul, “Could you?”

Raoul nodded, fidgeting in his seat, “Yes, if you'd like.”

“Hm, I suppose that would be acceptable.” Erik chuckled, reaching out a hand and patting Raoul's head like a favorite pet.

Raoul followed Erik into the bedroom and was directed to sit on the bed. The Vicomte watched curiously as Erik pulled out a thick piece of paper and some drawing pencils. Erik would glance up every so often while he drew, stopping once or twice to tap the paper with his pencil then resume drawing. Raoul tried to suppress the urge to lean forward and see what Erik was doing, but he bit his lip and held still.

He remembered when, as a child, he'd stood for the family portrait and how agonizingly long it had taken. He remembered every little bribe his father gave him if he would just please stop fidgeting and this gave Raoul an idea, a rather mischievous idea. He shifted his weight to one side. Erik glanced up, raising an eyebrow,

“Don't move.”

“Sorry.” Raoul went back to his original position, waited a bit, then shifted to the other side, tapping his bare foot on the stone floor.

Erik took the insistent tapping for maybe five seconds before he looked up to see what the devil Raoul was up to, “I told you, don't move.”

Raoul smirked and continued to fidget and shift his weight until Erik became annoyed and set his half-finished drawing on his lap, crossing his arms and scowling at Raoul,

“Which part of 'don't move' is difficult for you to grasp?”

“Well, what do I get if I behave?” Raoul tilted his head to the side.

“What?” Erik blinked at him.

Raoul stood up and moved to stand in front of Erik, “What will you give me?”

Erik seemed dumbfounded by this question, “What do you want?”

“Well,” Raoul smirked, set the drawing aside and climbed into Erik's lap, catching the artist completely off guard, “I can think of a thing or two that would make me happy.”

Erik stared at him, “Which would be?”

Raoul smiled, leaning tantalizingly close to Erik, purposely letting his hand slip down to Erik's thigh while he straddled him, “You can't guess?”

Erik snorted, “My, aren't you a little minx?”

Raoul smiled, leaning forward and kissing the vulnerable flesh of Erik's neck, mouthing his Adam's apple. Erik grunted softly, his head tilting back, hands clasping onto Raoul's hip,

“I don't see how this will keep you from moving, in fact, I think it will have the opposite effect.”

“Au contraire, Erik, I imagine I will be too exhausted to move, hence this being my reward.” Raoul breathed, feeling his trousers rapidly becoming too full.

“More like pre-reward.” Erik sighed, grabbing Raoul's chin and pulling him into a kiss.

Raoul moaned into Erik's mouth as his lips parted and tongues slid past each other. Erik seemed to respond to every sound Raoul made as he too faced a difficult wardrobe problem. Raoul quickly undid Erik's trousers and ran a finger lewdly up the underside of Erik's cock, making the Phantom hiss appreciatively, his back arching. Raoul shivered excitedly and slipped down to kneel in front of Erik, his hands resting on the man's knees as they spread farther apart. Erik was panting softly, face rigid with concentration and he was gripping the armrests so hard his knuckles were white. Raoul smiled and hummed softly as he leaned forward and took Erik into his mouth, feeling the hot length pulse on his tongue, there was pleasure here, making someone fall apart like this, and knowing that he was the source for their ecstasy made Raoul's own loins blaze. Raoul reached between his own legs and slid a hand down into his pants, stroking his aching erection, but trying not to let Erik know what he was doing, even though he had said this was to be  _ his  _ reward, he really just wanted Erik to let him do this, to have this sort of connection. 

Raoul's mind began to wander about before he realized that Erik had leaned into him, his fingers tangling in Raoul's blonde hair and tugging him back to reality,

“Don't daydream.” Erik instructed.

Raoul obeyed, hollowing his cheeks and pressing his tongue to the heated flesh, Erik groaned, the back of his head hitting the chair, sliding down in his seat and thrusting his hips into Raoul, all the while, Raoul was paying attention to himself. Erik moaned loudly, looking down at Raoul, then he seemed to realize what Raoul was doing,

“Hm, it would seem you are distracted.”

Raoul blinked at him, momentarily stopping his careful attention to Erik's cock, “Hm?”

“Yes, to be honest this doesn't seem like much of a reward for you.” Erik smirked and started to stand up, removing his long suit coat and vest.

Raoul watched him, then immediately stood up, pulling his own shirt off, the anticipation making the front of his trousers dampen. Erik was down to his undershirt and trousers, which were hanging low on his hips at this point, he lifted Raoul up and carried him to the bed, dumping him unceremoniously on the velvety sheets.

Raoul smiled, sprawling out of the bed and pushing his hips up, “ . . . what are you waiting for?”

Erik was looking down at Raoul, his undershirt tight to his body with sweat, “Nothing.”

“Well, then.” Raoul reached down and gave himself a tug, enticing Erik with his arousal.

Erik groaned and climbed onto the bed, tugging Raoul's pants off and pressing his body to the younger's, kissing Raoul's neck viciously and leaving round, dark bruises, his hands doing their own work, teasing at Raoul's nipples and caressing the line of hair on Raoul's belly below the navel. Raoul panted, gripping onto Erik's shoulders and helplessly grinding into Erik's leg, his own leg wrapping around the Phantom in a desperate bid to be as close as possible. Erik grunted and bit Raoul's shoulder, causing Raoul to moan loudly, pressing his head back into the pillows, knowing that soon, very soon, they'd be joined in the most intimate of ways, it was coming and Raoul had no desire to stop it. Erik pulled off of Raoul, lifting the younger's leg and pushing in, Raoul cried out in surprise as he was twisted onto his side, feeling Erik kissing his calf while he pushed harder. Raoul gasped, trying to calm the growing apprehension that he perhaps didn't much like this position and he was about to say as much, but Erik leaned forward, taking the hand that wasn't twisted in the sheets and clasping it tightly.

Raoul looked back at Erik, seeing the strain on his face and the muscles standing out in shadowed detail and his mask glowing eerily by the dim light of the many candles that surrounded them. Raoul blinked at Erik, watching the man kiss his hand then release it, instead gripping Raoul's cock, stroking it slowly, his own thrusting slowed until their breathing became more relaxed. Erik leaned forward, letting go of Raoul's leg and shifting behind him, his free arm wrapping tightly around Raoul's waist, the left side of his face pressed to Raoul's. Raoul whined as Erik's cock barely brushed the spot inside him, he tried to push toward it, his hand reaching back and gripping onto Erik's ass, feeling it tighten with each slow, deliberate thrust, pulling the other closer. Erik chuckled in his ear,

“Alright, Raoul, that's enough.” Erik adjusted himself and pushed, hitting right on target.

Raoul gasped and moaned, arching back onto Erik, at the same time his hips bucked involuntarily into Erik's hand as the strong, rough fingers tightened unexpectedly. Raoul was not long in coming, the hot fluid flowing into Erik's waiting hand with Raoul gasping and moaning loudly, then Erik growled low in his throat as Raoul clenched around him, the man gasped and came deep within Raoul, releasing every bit of himself. They laid there afterward, Raoul was trembling as his body cooled, aware that Erik was hugging him tightly to his chest,

“Th-There, now I won't move.” Raoul murmured, his eyelids drooping.

Erik pulled back and looked down at Raoul, “No, I don't suppose you will.”

Raoul watched while Erik stood, pulled his trousers up and tucked his shirt back into place, the artist smoothed his wig down after wiping his hands on a rag and picked up the paper again. Sitting down in his chair, he began to draw. Raoul smiled, curling on the soft sheets and feeling sleep fall on him like a heavy blanket.

* * *

 

Raoul woke several hours later to the smell of something cooking. He slowly got up, yawning and stretching (groaning when his hips and backside twinged painfully, noting several teeth-marks on his shoulders and love-bites on his neck) while he clambered ungracefully off the bed, almost tripping and falling while he retrieved his trousers, pulling them on and padding down the short staircase, following his nose to a door he had not known was there before, toward the back of the cavern. He pushed it open slowly and found himself in what could only be described as a house, beyond the door was a dining room with a door leading off of each wall. But what caught Raoul's attention was the heavily-laden table, the aroma making Raoul's mouth water. Up to this point, nearly three days since he made Erik let him stay, he'd eaten what Erik left out for him. Raoul quickly sat down and began to load up a plate, only to stop and wonder, where was his host?

“Erik?” Raoul called experimentally. When he received no answer, the young Vicomte rose to his feet, deciding he should look about for Erik before eating.

The first door, directly across the room from where he entered, led into a large kitchen and pantry, but no Erik. The second room was to his left, this room was a large sitting room with another door to the right, Raoul tried the door and found it to be open, steam poured out of the doorway as Raoul stepped in, realizing it was a washroom, he peered through the steam until he heard someone singing softly. Raoul slowly moved toward the singing, noting a large mirror on one wall with a wash basin and pitcher and several towels were neatly stacked in a small alcove. The room itself was strangely bright for being underground. As Raoul drew nearer, he could make out a bathtub and in it, Erik. Raoul smiled to himself, sitting down just behind Erik's head and picking up a thick piece of soap and a washcloth, carefully lathering the cloth and leaning forward. Erik's eyes were closed while he sang softly in some language that Raoul did not know. Raoul slowly, silently leaned forward and began to wash Erik's chest, Erik's eyes snapped open and he tilted his head back to look at Raoul.

“Hello.” Raoul murmured, smiling down at Erik.

“Hello?” Erik blinked, staring at Raoul while the young man continued to wash him, aware that Raoul's hand was slowly making its way to his belly.

“I wish I would have know there was more to the house,” Raoul said softly, pouting a bit, “But, more importantly, I wish I knew you had a bath, I'm rather dirty, you see.”

“Is that right?” Erik sat up, leaning forward and letting Raoul wash his back.

Raoul stared at the scars on Erik's back, but chose not to mention them, “Yes, can I join you?”

“Hm, I suppose so.” Erik moved slightly, watching Raoul drop his trousers to the floor and slide into the hot water, settling down across from Erik, their legs overlapping. Raoul smiled, lifting one of Erik's legs and scrubbing it slowly.

“How is this possible?” Raoul asked softly, looking cautiously up at Erik.

“Be specific, how is _what_ possible?” Erik rested his arms on the bathtub rim.

“How is it you have a whole house down here?” He moved down to Erik's calf.

"Magic." Erik murmured, his eyes closed.

"Don't tease." Raoul prodded Erik with his foot, making the older man open his eyes and snort.

“Hm, a lot of work and money and bargaining.” Erik shrugged, but he was watching Raoul's meticulous cleaning warily, “Raoul, don't- Agh!”

Raoul blinked in surprise when Erik recoiled just as he had started on the bottom of the Phantom's feet, “Are you . . .  _ ticklish? _ ”

“N-No!” Erik quickly decided it was a good idea to be done with his bath and started to scramble out of the tub, only one problem, Raoul had gotten a hold on his ankle.

Raoul grinned and started prodding Erik's feet, watching the older struggle and start to giggle uncontrollably, Raoul himself started to laugh when he moved higher, poking Erik's sides and finding him equally vulnerable.

“Agh!” Erik yelped, “See how you like it!”

Raoul squealed loudly when Erik grabbed onto his sides and tickled without mercy, Raoul was laughing so hard that he found he couldn't breathe anymore. After awhile, both settled back into the tub (which had lost a considerable amount of water by this point), giggling softly and trying to catch their breath.

“You know, if anyone could have seen us just now, your reputation would be finished.” Raoul commented, tapping Erik's knee.

Erik snorted and pressed his foot onto Raoul's chest, “Well, then it's just as well that no one knows about us.”

“Hm,” Raoul started to rub Erik's foot thoughtfully, watching the other's eyes rolling back into his skull, “So, where did all that food come from?”

“Food? . . . Oh, me.” Erik mumbled, pulling his foot back and climbing out of the tub, wrapping a thick, white towel around his waist.

“You  _ cooked  _ all that food?” Raoul blinked, standing up and catching a towel as it was thrown to him.

“Does that surprise you?” Erik raised an eyebrow, “I'd think after all _that_ nonsense just now, nothing would faze you.”

Raoul chuckled, mussing his wet hair with the towel, “Well, I suppose not, but it all smelled delicious, I know anything I've attempted would be burned to a crisp.”

“It takes practice.” Erik admitted, shrugging, but then he stopped to just stare at Raoul, “I have a shaving kit on the shelf over there.”

Raoul blinked at him, “You think I need a shave?”

“I didn't say that,” Erik defended, furrowing his eyebrows, “If you want it, I have it, that's all.”

“Alright,” Raoul raised his hands, smiling, “Thank you.”

Erik stared at him for a moment longer, “You're welcome.”

Erik opened the door, letting cool air in to dispel the steam, then he moved to the mirror, wiping it off with his hand and pulling a comb out of the alcove. He ran it through his brown locks, slicking his hair back on his head. Raoul watched curiously as Erik groomed himself. He walked up behind Erik, peering over the other's shoulder to look in the mirror too. Erik stopped, glancing at Raoul,

“Yes?”

“Nothing, just watching you.” Raoul murmured, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half-smile, “Is that wrong?”

“No, it . . . it does make me a bit . . . nervous.” Erik shifted, the comb stopped halfway to his head.

“Why?” Raoul moved to stand next to Erik, tilting his head to the side and keeping the half-smile.

“I don't . . . well, I just . . . um . . . “ Erik blushed slightly, glancing at Raoul a few times as he tried to gather his thoughts, “I'm not used to such . . . _scrutiny_ . . . I suppose.”

“I see, well, here.” Raoul took the comb and began running it through Erik's hair, Erik stiffened in surprise, but soon he relaxed, resigned to watching Raoul and his reflections in the mirror.

“ . . . I can do that myself.” Erik mumbled, not really wanting Raoul to stop, just curious to see what he'd say.

“I know.” Raoul murmured, setting the comb aside and gently stroking Erik's hair, feeling how soft it was, it wasn't nearly as thin or sparse as Raoul had originally thought, it was quite thick on the left side and only a little thin on the right side, just on the edges of Erik's disfigurement. And it was strange how the face didn't frighten him as it did before, the strange melted quality was actually, in its own rite, beautiful.

Erik leaned into Raoul's touches, feeling his lips tugging into a contented smile, his head eventually came to rest on Raoul's shoulder, he closed his eyes slowly, not really sure what any of these feelings were for, but . . . he wanted to feel this way for a long time to come.

Raoul stopped when Erik was practically leaning on him, his arms sliding around Erik's shoulder, nuzzling into the damp hair, until Erik jerked back,

“I think the food will get cold if you wait much longer.”

Raoul sighed, “Right.”

Erik retreated out the door and left Raoul to comb out his hair, tying it back with some ribbon he'd found out in Erik's 'workshop' and tugging his trousers back on, he hung his towel on a hook on the far wall. Then he slowly walked through the sitting room and back into the dining room where Erik, already dressed in black trousers and a loose-fitting shirt, was sitting. Raoul sat down and started to eat, until he noticed Erik watching him,

“Aren't you hungry?”

Erik smirked, his chin resting in his hand, “Mh, I've already eaten.”

“oh.” Raoul nodded, that made sense, Erik being the secretive recluse he was would _of course_ eat alone. Raoul glanced at the door he had not gone through yet, “Where does that lead?”

Erik looked around to the door, staring at it as if in deep thought, “That's my room.”

“Your room?” Raoul gestured to the door to the workshop and lake, “What about out there?”

“That's only there if I've worked myself to exhaustion, in which case I must rest or risk collapse and being that close to the lake I'd rather not risk drowning from negligence.” Erik shrugged.

“I see.” Raoul sat back, chewing slowly on a sausage, regarding the door with intense curiosity. It was only then that he realized Erik didn't actually sleep with him at 'night' and the only time Raoul had even witnessed the man asleep was when he'd first descended into the Lair.

“Raoul,” Erik sighed, rubbing at his eye, “I don't mind our, er, relationship and while I immensely enjoy our . . .  _ closeness _ , I ask that you leave my room be, I would like some privacy.”

Raoul blinked at him, “Alright . . . if that's what you want.”

“Yes,” Erik said bluntly, looking severely at Raoul, “It is what I want.”

Raoul lowered his gaze back to his plate, “Then, I want something.”

“Such as?”

“I want to be allowed to go to the surface, just, every once and awhile. If that's alright?” Raoul looked up at Erik, “That way we can both get what we want.”

“What exactly do you want on the surface?” Erik looked down his nose at Raoul.

“Just to see the sun and, I don't know, walk about.” Raoul shrugged.

“You realize that you will be easily recognizable?” Erik shook his head, “I don't think that would be a good idea.”

“I could . . . “ Raoul drummed his fingers on the tabletop in thought, “I could go out later in the day, when there will be less people out and about.”

“Finish your food . . . and I'll think on it.” Erik muttered, sitting back, surely Raoul wouldn't run away? He had come to him willingly, so . . . so he wanted to be here, right?

Raoul nodded and went back to eating, not in the least bit oblivious to Erik's tumultuous thoughts.

* * *

 

Erik was sitting at one of his work tables by the lake, scribbling away at something, Raoul slowly walked up behind him and rested his elbows on the top of the chair,

“What are you working on?”

Erik sighed, “Just a few things that need to be taken care of.”

“Do you need these mailed? I could do it.” Raoul reached forward and picked one of the envelopes up, only for Erik to snatch it back.

“Do  _not_ touch my things, Raoul.” Erik ground out, glancing back at him.

“Alright, alright.” Raoul threw his hands up, half expecting Erik to hit him, “Just thought I'd offer.”

“Hmph,” Erik stood and stuffed the letters in a leather satchel, “Why don't you stick to what you know, sitting about looking pretty?”

Raoul's ears reddened, “Beg pardon?”

Erik smirked, leaning very close to Raoul, “Something wrong, _pet_? Don't you like lounging about?”

Raoul glared at Erik, “Better than sitting up at all hours playing that horrid music.”

“What did you say?” Erik grabbed Raoul's upper arm, wrenching him closer.

Raoul winced in pain, but was able to grit his teeth and snarl, “Something wrong, _master_?”

Erik growled, twisted Raoul's arm savagely, “Most pets know their place, clearly you do not.”

“No, I think it's you that is out of line.” Raoul snapped, trying to pull his arm out of the impossibly strong grip, his eyes were starting to water.

Erik glared at him, then he released his hold, watching with guilty satisfaction when Raoul fell to the floor, Erik no longer holding his weight. Raoul stood up, straightened his shirt, stalked up the stairs and dropped the web-like curtain. Erik blinked, staring after him, he'd expected Raoul to act differently then this, why was he so angry? Erik was only teasing, after all, there had been no call for insulting his music.

Erik followed Raoul out to the workshop and up to Raoul's room (Raoul had basically claimed the peacock-bed and the space it resided as his), he could see Raoul sitting with his back to Erik on the bed.

“Raoul, come here.” Erik ordered, crossing his arms and waiting, Raoul did not move, “Raoul, did you hear me?”

Raoul didn't turn around, “Erik, in relationships, this is known as the 'silent treatment'.”

“Silent tre- that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.” Erik snapped, then he blinked, “What the devil is it?”

“It means I don't have to listen to you or talk to you . . . and I'm withholding sex.”

“You can't do that!” Erik reached out for the pull-rope for the curtain, but then he stopped, “Can you?”

“I believe I can and am.” Raoul snapped.

“Why?” Erik tried to keep his voice level.

“Because you're an inconsiderate, unfeeling ass.”

“How dare you- Of all the- I can't believe you'd- Are you listening to me??” Erik raged, huffing out each breath, “Fine! If you can stand it, then so can I!”

Raoul heard Erik stomp down one of his many secret passages to the surface, the younger slowly turned around, glaring after the Ghost. He'd hoped that Erik would get the hint and apologize for making Raoul feel like some sort of . . . possession, but, clearly Erik wasn't too familiar with how relationships worked. Raoul sighed and climbed off the bed, pulling the curtain up and descending to the lake, he sat on the edge and swirled the water with his hand, it was pretty warm for how far underground they were.

“I hope I can stand it then . . . dammit.” He berrated himself for being so foolish, Erik hadn't had normal human contact let alone experience with being in a civil relationship . . . why had he pushed him so?

* * *

 

Erik returned two days later to find Raoul curled up in the sitting area, a book resting on his chest, his long blonde hair almost loose from it's ribbon. Erik smiled and sat down next to him, his long black cloak billowing around them like a shroud. His fingers played over Raoul's shoulder, brushing the soft cotton of the boy's shirt, feeling his warm skin under the thin fabric, and something inside Erik reared up and snarled like a hungry beast. Raoul's eyes fluttered open and he looked up at Erik sleepily.

“Where did you go?” Raoul asked softly, scooting closer, the book slipping to the floor, his head resting on Erik's leg.

“I had some things to do . . . Raoul?” Erik murmured, undoing Raoul's honey-colored hair from the ribbon, letting the soft strands slip between his fingers.

“Mhm?” Raoul closed his eyes.

“Are you still angry with me?” Erik leaned down to peer into the younger's face.

“Hm,” Raoul seemed to consider Erik for a bit, “A little.”

“I was only teasing,” Erik continued stroking Raoul's hair, “But, I'm sorry.”

“I forgive you, then.” Raoul mumbled, turning on his side and tucking his legs to his chest, “ . . . I was afraid you really wouldn't come back.”

Erik snorted, “Not likely, I wouldn't leave all my things behind.”

“Oh.” Raoul frowned.

“Raoul, I meant I wouldn't leave _you_ behind.”

Raoul sat up slowly, feeling his resentment bubbling up to the surface again, “I am _not_ an object.”

Erik grimaced, biting his lip a bit, “No, you aren't, that-that came out wrong . . . I'm sorry.”

Raoul stared at him for a second, trying to wrestle with his feelings, not once had Erik expressed any affection to him (unless you counted the few glimpses of it during sex), any tenderness on either side always seemed to end abruptly with Erik scurrying out of the room. Was it love? Raoul wanted to believe that Erik did indeed care for him to some extent beyond their physical relationship, but . . . was he an interesting pet to Erik and nothing more?

“Hm, alright.” Raoul sat back on his heels.

Erik reached out, then pulled his hand back, he wasn't quite sure about any of this, Raoul seemed so much more fragile then expected when it came to emotions or feelings or whatever than Erik had anticipated and he wasn't used to treading lightly but . . . even if he knew what he wanted he had no idea how to ask for it and it was painful to _not_ be the best at something like love. After all, he was able to pour his heart and soul into music and art so . . . why was he so afraid to show that to Raoul? He wanted the world to see him and yet, this man saw him fully and he continued to pull away. It was frustrating and he didn't realize that during this time of agonizing contemplation, Raoul's face  steadily got more and more unhappy.

“Erik, you are _impossible_.” Raoul huffed, taking Erik's hand and pressing it to his lips, “I don't understand why you won't just touch me.”

He felt Erik shudder, his fingers stroking Raoul's lips, it was a strange feeling, Raoul thought, Erik's fingers were rather rough, calloused, yet they had a sort of softness to them, a quiet, timid curiosity. Raoul longed for Erik to exercise that curiosity, to stop holding back and just do what he wanted, find out whatever it was that entranced him so. Raoul was frustrated with how he always had to initiate their intimacy, how Erik would eventually take the lead when they were both too far gone for modesty or apprehension.

“What is it you want?” Raoul murmured, his breath hot on Erik's fingertips.

Erik's eyes were glazed and his breath came out in huffs, cheeks flushed with arousal, “Want?”

“You want something, what is it?” Raoul breathed more hot air onto Erik's palm, his body seemed to shudder, almost quivering with pent-up longings, “Why do you hide it?”

Erik blinked slowly, panting with the effort of keeping in control, “I-I . . . I don't . . . “

“Let me in.” Raoul whispered, pulling Erik's finger into his mouth, lapping at it with his tongue.

“Ahhh . . . “ Erik moaned, shifting his weight, watching through hooded eyes as Raoul sucked his finger, then pulled another in.

Raoul chuckled, humming softly, then the fingers were pulled back and Erik was standing, dragging Raoul to his feet. Raoul gasped as his front was pressed to the wall, he gripped the stone, feeling it cool and rough on his face. Erik pressed into his back, kissing his neck and wrenching on his trousers, and for some reason, Raoul didn't mind a bit. He even started to enjoy this, panting as his cock stiffened, hot and thick.

“Eri-ik!” Raoul moaned loudly, curling his fingers on the stone.

Erik froze, feeling Raoul squirm under him, desperate and sweating and moaning . . . he suddenly wasn't comfortable with this . . . suddenly he wasn't in his safe, comfortable lair on the lake, suddenly he was far, far away in his memories. Memories awakened by the smell of sweat and arousal, the feel of heated flesh, and the sound of quickened breath,

_Erik was pressed to the rough wall of the old cabin, his ratty, dirty pants discarded, thin legs spread apart carelessly, rough hands grabbed his sides, bruising already black and blue skin. He was begging, begging again for this not to happen, pleading for his master to leave him be, just this once, that he'd do anything to just be allowed to slink off to a dark corner. The hands touched where he didn't want to be touched and pressed his head to the wall. Tears streamed down Erik's young face, as the rustle of cloth behind him told him that yet again he was at the man's mercy, that pain and suffering were all that could possible await him and that agony would be his only companion in the long, dark hours of the night long after his master was sated and asleep.  
_

“No!” Erik stepped backwards, turning away and clutching at his ears.

Raoul blinked in shock as he found himself on the floor, not entirely sure what the devil just happened. How had they gone from finally being satisfied after the last few days of forced abstinence (which Raoul gladly takes the blame) to being on opposite sides of the room?

“What just-?” Raoul blinked at Erik, but any ideas of sex went out of his mind when he saw Erik leaning on the opposite wall for support, his whole body trembling, “Erik?”

“I-I can't . . . please . . . “ Erik mumbled, tears dripping onto the floor from his cheeks.

“What is it?” Raoul stood up, slowly approaching Erik, “Did I do something wrong?”

Erik blinked at Raoul, “Did you-? No, no . . . not you, I . . . I just can't do it, not that way.”

“Oh.” Raoul nodded slowly, “Do you want me to go?”

Erik swallowed, wiping at his face irritably, “N-No, don't go, just stay over there.”

“Alright.” Raoul took a step back and waited patiently for Erik to gather himself.

When Erik finally straightened his shirt and cleared his throat, Raoul knew there would be no 'closeness _'_ tonight, “I, um, I think I want to be alone for a bit.”

Raoul watched Erik stalk past him to the door, he heard another open and close and knew that Erik was in his room now. Raoul carefully walked up to the door, knocking gently,

“Erik?”

“What?” came the reluctant reply.

“Are you alright?” Raoul fidgeted nervously, of course Erik wasn't alright, but getting the man to admit it was impossible!

“Raoul, please don't.”

“I just, well, if you want anything, I'll, um, I'll be in my room.” Raoul sighed, going out to the lake and sitting on it's bank, dipping his toes in the cool water. He had never seen fear on Erik's face, but he knew it when it filled the masked man's face. And Raoul felt that they couldn't be more distant then they were right now, this realization brought tears to his eyes but he let them fall silently into lake, knowing that he would remain uncertain and alone until Erik decided otherwise.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clearly Erik has some issues with being in a relationship but he'll learn


	3. Adjusting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ARGH! I'm so lazy! Okay, okay, here, have an update! Please don't hurt me . . . ((whimper))

Raoul waited patiently for two days for Erik to come out of his room, or at least to say something, _anything!_ He stood outside the door, knocking again,

“Erik?”

No answer.

“If you don't answer me, I'm coming in.” Raoul threatened, hoping to pull Erik back to reality.

Again, no answer.

“Alright, fine.” Raoul grabbed the knob and was dismayed to find it locked, “Erik . . . “

He pressed his forehead to the cool wood, Erik wouldn't come out if Erik didn't want to, there would be no forcing him . . . Raoul huffed, going out to the workshop, rifling through the wardrobe behind the curtain, he found a pair of clean trousers, a crisp white shirt, and next to the wardrobe, a pair of black boots. Raoul changed into the clothes he'd found, pulled on the boots, and searched about some more. He smiled in triumph when he located one of Erik's long black coats and a cap, pulling on the coat and tucking his long blonde hair under the cap, Raoul moved to one of the passages to the surface. A handful of Francs he'd found in a desk drawer and the whole day ahead of him, Raoul was intent on getting some fresh air. If Erik wanted to be alone for awhile, then that was alright with Raoul.

* * *

 

Erik sat back in the corner of his room, he wasn't so sure about this anymore, not that he'd known what the devil he was doing in the first place. Why had he let the boy stay? He didn't love him, did he?  . . . but there was something there, some quality that Erik found himself clinging to at each chance, digging into it and trying to loose himself in that strange, wonderful euphoria. But . . . to have such a painful memory forced to the front of his attention was more than he could bear, to have it interrupt what was supposed to feel pleasurable and good . . . 

“Does he even enjoy that?” Erik muttered, he knew _he_ most certainly hadn't enjoyed it as a child.

Erik shuddered, tucking his chin into his knees, squeezing his eyes shut as tears burned in his eyes. He had to put an end to this! There was no feasible way that Raoul was enjoying that! And . . . and he no longer wanted to hurt Raoul, before he thought to kill him, now he wanted to touch him and draw and paint him and gaze into those lovely eyes and feel his soft blonde hair in his fingers . . . What had changed the world so in a few short days, well, almost weeks now, that he no longer hated his _hated_ rival? How was it that Raoul came crawling back to him, begging with those searching eyes for a kind word or gentle touch? Erik knew he had it in his power to beat the boy senseless, to yell and rage at him, to be cruel and merciless, he had him right where he wanted him! . . . And yet, he didn't want to, he didn't want to hurt Raoul, even those marks he'd made in the heat of sex made him cringe (not to mention the bruising on Raoul's neck from almost being strangled filled him with a heavy guilt). 

The Phantom sighed, standing up, he'd have to do something about this . . . he just had to! Erik pushed his bedroom door open and stood in the dining room,

“Raoul?”

No answer.

“Hm, probably sulking.” Erik sighed and went out to his workshop, looking about, but . . . no Raoul.

Erik furrowed his eyebrows, he went back into the house and searched the rest of the rooms, no Raoul. He scratched his head,

“Alright . . . then where is he?” Erik blinked slowly, sitting down on one of the sofas in the sitting room. 

A sudden idea struck him, had Raoul . . . left? Erik swallowed around a lump that was forming in his throat, no . . . no, Raoul wouldn't run off, he wanted to be here . . . he'd said so! Erik bit his lip and started to rock back and forth, rubbing his knees while he tried to keep himself from falling apart. No, he _did not_ love Raoul, he . . . he just . . . he liked having someone around who wanted to please him for a change, someone that would listen to him and talk to him and _look at_ him. And, even if he had been intent on driving him off, this was a kind of pain he had not anticipated.

“Maybe,” Erik muttered, “It's better this way?” Not that this thought made him feel it was in any way . . . 

* * *

Erik was still in the sitting room three hours later when he heard the 'front door' open and close, his head snapped up and he moved to the door, stopping with his hand on the doorknob, of course it was Raoul, but . . . did he really want to face him. It would seem that Erik didn't have a choice when the door pulled open, taking Erik with it. Erik yelped and fell on top of Raoul, knocking something out of Raoul's hand.

“Oh, hello.” Raoul blinked up at Erik, the cap still affixed to his head.

Erik gaped at Raoul, “Where did you-?”

“I went out.” Raoul shrugged, suddenly afraid and apologetic, “Was that alright?”

“Of course.” Erik quickly stood up, taking a step back and looking off to the side, “I want to talk to you.”

“All in good time, first, I bought something.” Raoul reached over to retrieve the package, obvious relief at not being in trouble in his tone.

“No, I really-”

“I noticed you don't have any champagne in your wine collection.” Raoul went on, “So, I thought if we ever had an opportunity, we might want a bottle around.”

“Raoul, I-”

“Hm, maybe I could have found a better vintage, but oh well, it isn't like-”

“Raoul!” Erik shouted, grabbing the other's shoulders, “Let. Me. Finish!”

Raoul shrank back, his eyes widening, “Alright.”

Erik swallowed, letting Raoul go for fear of any close contact making this more difficult, “Raoul, why are you still here?”

“Still here?” Raoul blinked at him, setting the bottle on the dining room table, dread making his whole body tense.

“Yes, you must know I don't love you . . . ” Erik muttered, not looking at Raoul, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“You don't?” Raoul murmured, his eyes started to water.

“And I know you aren't enjoying any of this, how can you?” Erik went on, “I just . . . I just don't want you to stay out of some sort of pity or obligation or something. You don't have to pretend to-”

Erik didn't get to finish, Raoul had thrown himself into him, knocking Erik to the floor and wrapping his arms around the older man. Erik blinked in surprise, staring down at Raoul who was trembling and seemed intent on cracking every rib in Erik's chest.

“You stupid, impossible, self-centered, pathetic, idiot.” Raoul growled, his eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched.

Erik started in shock, “What?”

“You think all the problems revolve around you,” Raoul sat up, pushing Erik in the chest with both hands, “Well, it doesn't! I thought about my own feelings before I ever considered yours! I came back because I wanted to be with you! And if you think I'm not enjoying any of it, you're an imbecile and you deserve to be alone! I didn't have to come back! And I most certainly didn't have sex with you out of _pity_ or _obligation!_ _I owe you nothing_!”

Raoul's chest heaved after his tirade, he looked at Erik, his face crumpling into misery,

“Why would you say such things? I know you love me, even if you don't realize it yourself, I do and . . . you aren't one to do anything you don't want to do. Why do you want to be alone so badly?”

Erik was for once, speechless, his tongue just couldn't form words no matter how many times he opened and closed his mouth.

“What are you afraid of?” Raoul murmured, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I- . . . “ Erik swallowed, “I don't want to hurt you.”

Raoul almost laughed with relief, “Hurt me?”

“I know it hurts and I don't want anyone to feel like that! I don't want to hurt you! Not like that!” Erik pressed his left hand to his face.

Raoul slid forward, hugging Erik as tightly as he could, his cheek pressed into Erik's neck, “It doesn't hurt, Erik. Please don't shut me out . . . please, let me in?”

Erik hugged Raoul to him, “I don't know how . . . “

There was silence, then Raoul smiled, “I do, tell me you love me.”

Erik blinked, looking down at Raoul, hesitantly pulling the cap off Raoul's head and watching the blonde hair fall back into place. He looked at him, so young and full of life, full of promise . . . Erik had said it before, the dark cellars were no place for a prince, and he'd meant it, as much as it hurt and as much as he wanted to stop himself from feeling this desperate, he opened his mouth,

“I . . . I love you, Raoul.” Erik murmured, those words were so foreign on his tongue, so painful that Erik felt tears rolling down his cheeks. He'd said them only a few times before . . . to a mother that rejected him, a diva that snubbed him, and now to a Vicomte that refused to go away even when there was nothing down here in the dark but misery and suffering.

Raoul smiled, his hands reaching up hesitantly to pull of Erik's mask, he felt the Phantom flinch away, but Raoul was determined and was finally able to slip the delicate porcelain mask off. His fingers ran tenderly over Erik's ruined face, sliding under his eye to catch a few lingering tears.

“There, that's a start.” Raoul said encouragingly, “Now, enough with this self-pity nonsense. Are you going to the performance tonight?”

Erik blinked, “How do you know about that?”

“I do actually pay attention when you play, you know. I saw that you'd swiped some sheet music, so, while out on my escapades, I took it upon myself to investigate.” Raoul shrugged, “Are you going?”

The Opera Populaire had reopened, merely a few weeks after the accident, the chandelier was repaired and now there were operas to perform. Erik had a new manager (who seemed much more superstitious and ready to comply than the last two) and now he had his old box seat back.

“I thought to.” Erik admitted.

“Well then it would seem we _do_ have an occasion for champers,” Raoul smiled, “We can toast the reopening of the Opera house together.”

Erik blinked, “ _Champers_? Really?”

Raoul only chuckled, kissing Erik's cheek and standing up, his large blue eyes staring down at Erik, “C'mon, I'll need to borrow one of your suits.”

“I don't think that would be a good idea, you are a bit shorter than me and all my suits are tailored.” Erik stood, walking past Raoul to the dining room, “Besides, I think we should be more careful.”

“Tailored? Who tailors your suits?” Raoul ran to catch up to Erik, sliding his coat off.

Erik blinked at Raoul, “Oh . . . I suppose you don't know Tom.”

“Who's Tom?” Raoul couldn't suppress his curiosity.

“Hm, I'll introduce you.” Erik smiled lightly and went out to the lake, turning right and walking easily along the bank. 

Raoul quickly fell in step with him, glancing about curiously, wondering who this person was and how they had come to know Erik well enough to tailor those elegant suits for him.

“Did this 'Tom' person make your costume as well?” Raoul asked, thinking back to when Erik had worn the stunning red costume to the New Year's Masquerade.

“Yes, he did.” Erik chuckled, “Quite a talent, Tom is.”

They turned a corner and went up a short flight of stairs, walking along a corridor until Raoul could hear a deep voice singing something over the sound of a low thrum. Erik pushed aside a heavy gray curtain and light blinded Raoul for a moment or two, he looked about and found them to be in a small workshop overflowing with bolts of cloth, porcelain works, sketches, and a large kiln that belched out waves of heat (which was also where the thrumming was coming from) and light was everywhere as Lyme lamps hung from the rafters. But all this was nothing when Raoul's eyes finally adjusted, he found himself face-to-back with a very tall man and that he was the one singing.

“Hello in there!” Erik hollered over the noise of the kiln and the man singing.

“Ha, Erik, I didn't expect you so soon.” The man turned and beamed at Erik, only to stare at Raoul for a moment, “Oi, who's this?”

“This is Raoul.” Erik said, putting his hands on Raoul's shoulders, “Raoul, this is the former prop-master, Tom Emerson.”

Tom was in his forties or fifties, his thick brown hair was graying at the temples and up the back, his sharp, dark eyes narrowed at Raoul and he rubbed his goatee thoughtfully.

“Funny, he looks familiar.” Tom raised an eyebrow at Erik, “What the devil are you up to, boy?”

“Up to?” Erik blinked and Raoul could have laughed at the expression on Erik's face, he looked very much like a child that got caught with his hand in the the cookie jar.

“Aye, 'up to', what is the Vicomte de Chagny doin' down here?” Tom took a step closer to Erik, crossing his arms and nodding toward Raoul.

“I've not the slightest idea of what you're getting at.” Erik defended, straightening to his full height and still coming six inches shorter than Tom.

“Oh, I think you have an idea, _boy_ , you may think that everyone else is stupid, but I am not.” Tom shook his head, “Put him back before someone notices him missing.”

“What if I don't want to?”

Raoul raise an eyebrow, put him back? “Now, hold on a moment-”

“Erik, I will not tell you a second time!” Tom snapped, ignoring Raoul completely.

“But, Fa-” Erik began desperately.

“No, but's, I-” 

Tom stopped to have a coughing fit, a hanky to his mouth caught several drops of scarlet in the already spot-stained cloth. Raoul's eyes widened in further shock, not only at how Erik bent under this man but now there was blood soaking that hanky. Erik rushed forward, helping Tom to a chair, his face the picture of concern until Tom finally stopped coughing, his own face screwed up in pain,

“Go on with you, there's an opera tonight, right? You'll be wanting my keys.” Tom muttered resignedly, wiping blood out of the corner of his mouth and gesturing with his other hand at a ring of keys hanging on a thick wooden foundation post.

“You sure you're alright?” Erik asked, his voice low.

“Yeh, go on.” Tom muttered, “But, you keep in mind what I've said, people will be wondering where he's gone.”

“No they won't, I . . . I left a message that I was going off on my own and I didn't specify when I'd be back.” Raoul murmured, shuffling awkwardly.

Tom stared at him, then he sighed and shook his head, “Erik, you bring him back here sometime, he needs a suit.”

Erik smiled (practically beamed, really the first true smile Raoul had seen on him), “Of course, Father.”

Raoul blinked at that but was unable to ask about it as Erik was snatching the keys and pulling him back toward the house.

“Well, that went better than expected.” Erik mumbled, flipping the keys around the ring until he found the one he wanted.

“What's wrong with him?” Raoul asked softly, knowing he'd made a mistake when Erik's back stiffened and the keys jangled loudly, “Not that it's any of my bus-”

“He told me that it is called 'tuberculosis'.” Erik said shortly, his posture did not relax, “In essence, he's dying.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.”

“Don't be,” Erik sighed, turning to look at Raoul, “He came down to the kiln because it is hot and dry there, it's given him a few more years . . . so . . . it isn't all that bad.”

“You called him 'Father'.” Raoul commented, feeling that it was alright to probe deeper.

Erik blinked, “Well, I don't know what else I should call him, the man raised me.”

“He did?” Raoul sat down slowly.

“Yes, Giry handed me over to him to hide from the mob, I know she told you so I won't reiterate what happened. All you need to know is that Tom is a good man and his opinion means the world to me.” Erik shrugged, “He helped me build my home and . . . and if he wants to make you a suit, that means you can stay.”

“Does it?” Raoul stared up at Erik.

Erik nodded, running his fingers over Raoul's cheek, brushing some of his blonde hair out of his face and sweeping it behind one of Raoul's ears, “Yes.”

Raoul puzzled over this, “Then, how did he feel about the murders?”

Erik stiffened, he dropped his hand and glared at a spot on the ground, “He was not . . . thrilled, to say the least. Buquet was not a good man to Tom, even years ago, so his death did not stir a reaction in Tom . . . but, that night, he, uh, did not 'spare the rod' as they say. This is his home, you see, and I was actively destroying it.”

Raoul blinked slowly, “So, the opera?”

“Ah, yes!” Erik snapped out of whatever distant place he'd been in, looking back to his keys and selecting a long silver one, “This should be the one.”

Raoul peered at the key, “Aren't we going to sit in your box?”

“Hm, perhaps another time, but, with you tagging along, I thought we should watch from a different vantage point.” Erik smirked knowingly, “I wish you had a suit, but, I suppose your usual attire will do.”

Raoul looked down at what he was wearing, Erik's shirt, his trousers, and the boots (which were a bit big if he was honest), he had a few things to wear since Erik had retrieved his clothes from the edge of the lake (he'd left all his clothes on the bank the night he first came to Erik).

“In fact, I think you'll need more than a suit . . . “ Erik circled Raoul, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Perhaps . . . “ Raoul conceded, his cheeks reddening as Erik undressed him with his eyes.

“Hm,” Erik stopped in front of Raoul, his hand reaching out to untuck the blonde's shirt, two fingers hooking the waist of Raoul's trousers, “But, for now, I think you'd look better in _less_.”

Raoul smiled, blushing deeply when Erik pulled the waist out, peering down into the darkness, “Lech.”

“Who are you calling a lech?” Erik murmured, bending forward, kissing Raoul's neck, “We do have a bit of time before the opera.”

“Hm?” Raoul murmured, tilting his head back, his hands sliding over Erik's arms and gripping his shoulders.

“Do I have to spell it out?” Erik chuckled, mouthing Raoul's earlobe.

Erik slid is hand down Raoul's trouser front, Raoul gasped and closed his eyes, pushing his groin into Erik's hand. Erik blinked at how responsive Raoul was, at how quickly he was aroused and . . . it was Erik that did it. The Phantom gently moved closer, directing Raoul to one of the worktables that wasn't overflowing with papers or models, Raoul smiled, bending over the table and letting loose an erotic moan, his fingers curling around the edge of the table. Erik chuckled quietly, sliding Raoul's trousers down so that they fell to pool around his feet, Erik's hand reached out and gently ran over one of the Vicomte's buttocks, feeling the soft, warm flesh under his hand. Raoul's whole body hummed, he closed his eyes and pressed himself down onto the table, the side of his face on the smooth wood while Erik rubbed at his tailbone, the younger man groaned as his cock throbbed and came to attention. He heard Erik undo his trousers and then the Phantom was pressing into him, the head of his cock flush to Raoul's entrance,

“Wh-why the hesitation?” Raoul teased, trying to sound calmer and steadier than he felt.

Erik chuckled again, leaning forward until he could kiss the back of Raoul's neck, his tongue brushing a line to Raoul's earlobe and he nipped at it gently. Raoul panted, moaning softly and trying to back up onto Erik, but the Phantom's cock seemed as equally a ghost as Erik himself, always out of reach and just when Raoul thought it was time, Erik would shift back again. Raoul continued to pant when Erik's calloused, strong hand gripped his cock, pumping it under the table and finally, Raoul felt Erik push forward. 

Penetration for Raoul was a mixture of agony and pleasure, a pulse that made him freeze for only a second before crying out in ecstasy, before he was comfortable to carry on with making love. Raoul sighed as Erik filled him, a warm thickness that throbbed inside him and seemed to radiate pleasure. Raoul smiled and relaxed, his eyes closing slightly while Erik growled and panted in his ear, his teeth pressing a new bruise into his neck, Raoul grunted in pain,

“Why do you always bite?” 

Erik blinked, “I don't . . . I don't know.”

“Hm,” Raoul sighed, stretching his back and then gasping, “What-?”

“Just hold still.” Erik murmured, kissing the place he'd just been biting. 

His hand tightened around Raoul's cock, stroking the head with his thumb, he had tilted his hips up, pressing directly on Raoul's prostate, soon the effect was apparent as each thrust caused Raoul to moan and cry out, his forehead pressed into the table and his legs squirmed under Erik, trying to get closer.

“O-Oh . . . Oh, Erik!” Raoul panted, a sob catching in his throat, “That-”

Erik shushed him and continued his careful attentions to Raoul's cock, feeling it swell and throb in his hand, feeling Raoul's rapid heartbeat through it, it wasn't long, Erik knew that much . . . not long at all.

“E-Erik, ahh! N-Not yet, I-” Raoul cried out, sobbing with pleasure as he came, the thick, warm semen pouring onto the stone floor.

Erik gasped, standing up more as Raoul clenched around him, wringing out every drop of Erik's pleasure, making him cry out and throw his head back, his vision blurred and every muscle in his body tightened until he thought he would explode. 

Raoul was limp underneath him and in his hand, panting and gasping on the way down from nirvana and trying to stay upright while Erik withdrew, leaving Raoul feeling strangely empty and cold. For a second, Raoul thought Erik was going to let him fall to the floor and leave him alone, but then strong arms were holding him and gently lifting him up, carrying him to the peacock-bed, and the next thing he knew, he was being carefully tucked into the bed. Raoul blinked tiredly, 

“What . . . what about the opera?”

Erik chuckled, “I'm going up . . . you stay here and sleep.”

Raoul nodded slowly, his eyes closing, he tried to stop from crying, he was going to be left behind, alone again, but, Erik seemed full of surprises tonight, he bent down and kissed Raoul's forehead,

“I'll be back in an hour or two, depending on whether the performance is any good. Sleep, Raoul . . . my love.” Erik whispered gently, stroking some of Raoul's hair out of his face and then he was gone.

Raoul closed his eyes and rolled onto his side, his hand sliding down between his legs, touching tender, sensitive flesh and sighing contentedly despite the receding footsteps, certainly he was alone and Erik would most likely not sleep in this bed tonight, but . . . _Erik_ _loved him_!

* * *

Erik sat up watching the performance with less than his usual enthusiasm, in fact, he'd hardly even paid any attention since taking his seat in Box Five, his thoughts were back with the slumbering Raoul, wanting to curl up and fall asleep with his darling Vicomte. He smiled to himself, then he stopped, becoming aware that he'd been stroking the front of his trousers without realizing it, Erik blinked down at his crotch, at the half-hard extremity that was waking just under the thin covering of cotton. He rolled his eyes in irritation, what was he doing? He looked about himself and, no, no one was looking, the curtains around the box afforded quite a bit of privacy, Erik undid his trousers and slid his cock out, stroking it as the music began to build in intensity. Erik panted, sliding down in his seat and pushing into his hand desperately, he could hear the music rising to a crescendo, soon, he would reach his own. Erik moaned softly, biting his lip against any other unexpected noises, not wishing to alert anyone of his presence, let alone his current condition. Erik's cock pulsed, he reached down further with his other hand, his fingers brushing the other members of his sex, panting harshly and then, just as the music erupted, Erik let loose a yelp of pleasure and came on his hands, no one heard him because he'd timed it perfectly, the music was too loud at that precise moment for any noise to be heard. He made a mental note to keep track of future crescendos, just in case the urge overcame him again. Erik sighed, sitting up and wiping his hands on his handkerchief, tucking himself back into his pants and watching the performance.

* * *

Raoul was fast asleep when Erik finally made it home, he stared down at Raoul, his long blonde hair was spread out around him, one hand by his face and the other draped over his side. Erik smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching out a hand to gently stroke Raoul's face, petting his soft hair, Raoul stirred, his eyes opening slowly,

“How was the opera?”

Erik chuckled softly, “Well, to be honest, I wasn't really paying attention.”

“Oh?” Raoul smiled, sitting up a bit, leaning his head into Erik's hand.

“My thoughts were stubbornly here, with you.” Erik pulled his hand back and undid his suit jacket, standing to hang it on a hook, next he undid his ascot and let it fall to the floor, he undid his shirt and slowly turned back to Raoul, “Strangely, I didn't have the heart to bring them away, so . . . I decided, why bother?”

Raoul watched Erik undress and felt his heart flutter when Erik climbed over the side of the bed, the blonde scooted over, letting Erik pull the sheets up and slide under them. Raoul cuddled up to him hesitantly, Erik frowned at this timidness and put his arms around Raoul, hugging the younger to his chest, kissing his forehead,

“I had the unpleasant thought that you might be lonely . . . I couldn't let you stay that way.” Erik whispered, nuzzling his nose into the soft blonde hair.

“I'm glad . . . “ Raoul murmured, closing his eyes and sighing happily, “I love you.”

Erik tilted Raoul's chin up to his, “I think . . . I think I'm starting to understand.”

Raoul felt their lips come together and it was different this time, Raoul could have cried at how gentle and loving the kiss was, how Erik was holding him and pulling the blankets up to their chests. Raoul sighed as they pulled apart only to have Erik's lips back at his, the Phantom's tongue tracing his bottom lip, asking, begging for entrance, Raoul granted it, opening his mouth to Erik and then the gentle push of tongue on tongue, Raoul could taste a distant tang of wine on Erik's and feel the perfect, straight teeth, he pressed his tongue to the roof of Erik's mouth and then they were lying facing each other. Erik frowned at him, reaching out and swiping tears off Raoul's face,

“Why are you crying?”

Raoul swallowed, smiling at Erik reassuringly, “I'm just . . . so happy. I've never been kissed like that . . . “

Erik sighed with relief, smiling shakily at Raoul, pulling him closer, “Oh, for a moment, I thought I did something wrong.”

Raoul laughed softly, sliding his leg over Erik's, a little perturbed that Erik was still wearing his underpants, “No, love, no, I like it.”

“Good.” Erik murmured, kissing Raoul's cheek and snuggling him.

 

* * *

Raoul woke up and had to pinch himself until he was certain he was not dreaming, “Where . . . ?”

“My room.” 

Raoul started in shock and suddenly became aware of muscled arms around him and warm breath on his cheek. Raoul turned slowly and stared at Erik, “What?”

“I . . . you wanted me to let you in, so . . . I'm letting you in. This is my room.” Erik whispered, his eyes glittering in the near-darkness.

Raoul sat up a bit when Erik released his hold and gazed about the room, it was dark except for a single candelabra on a desk to one side, the bed they were in was a large, four-poster with long black curtains, soft pillows, and fine bedsheets. And there, by the other wall, next to a large, overflowing bookcase, was-

“Is that a . . . coffin?” Raoul whispered, feeling fear well up in him and he quickly went back under the covers and pressed his back into Erik.

“Yes, my intention for life was to simply decide one day that I wanted to die and . . . crawl into my coffin and die.” Erik whispered, his voice caught strangely and Raoul turned around, staring in surprise at the Phantom.

“Erik, you were going to . . . commit suicide?” Raoul felt his chest ache and suddenly they were both crying.

“Yes . . . not that I did not try before.” Erik whispered, taking Raoul's hands and placing his fingers on Erik's wrist, feeling slightly raised lines there.

“My god . . . you cut yourself?” Raoul bit his lip, tears rolling down his face slowly, “Oh, Erik . . . “

“But now, it would seem I have a reason to live again. Not the same as before . . . but, perhaps that is for the best.” Erik murmured, scooting up on the bed, his pillow pushed up under him, “I wonder what the future holds?”

“Come away with me,” Raoul sat up suddenly, his eyes light with determination, “Let's run away together, we can go anywhere we wish, you and I! We can make a new life for ourselves! Oh, Erik, think of it!”

Erik chuckled, reaching out to stroke Raoul's cheek, “How very bohemian. Raoul, if there was a way for us to survive out there in a world that holds nothing for me, perhaps, but, my life is here.”

Raoul's face fell, “You don't deserve it.”

“What?” Erik stopped petting Raoul's cheek and stared at him.

“You said that the darkness was no place for a prince . . . so why are you still here?” Raoul looked at him, “You deserve the sun and the sky, you deserve to live out in the open and the fresh air . . . “

Erik blinked slowly, “I was talking about y-”

“I know, but, now I'm talking about you, you are a prince, Erik, to me.” Raoul sighed, “Please, at least try.”

Erik shrank back, biting his lip and sighing, “I'll . . . think about it, you forget that all I know of family and home is here . . . I can't just walk away from it.”

Raoul nodded, “I understand, just, promise you'll think on it, I could make a life for us . . . “

Erik slumped slightly, nodding his head, “I'll think on it.”

Raoul laid back down, folding into Erik's side and closing his eyes, that would be good enough for now. 

* * *

 

Erik waited for Raoul to sleep deeply before he slipped out of the bed and crept toward his wardrobe, dressing silently and then stealing to Tom's workshop,

"You're angry with me."

Tom glanced up from his book and late supper, "Hmm?"

"You are, don't deny it, you're only begrudgingly letting me have this." Erik sat down staring at Tom intently.

"Alright then I won't. Do you remember what I told you?" Tom closed his book and set it aside.

"About . . . ?"

"Making people our light." Tom spoke like he was facing a child.

"Not to. People die, disappear, and disappoint." Erik mumbled, closing his eyes slowly.

"Exactly. We don't get that kind of happiness. Erik, he loves you, truly, even I can see that, but you need to face the reality that you can't keep him down here or really anywhere in the Opera House without him being found out and you along with him." Tom reached out and put a hand on Erik's shoulder, "I lost you once to the mob, don't make me lose you again, yeh?"

Erik bit his lip, "What if I love him too?"

"Then take that love and flee with it, run from this place and never look back. Otherwise it will smother and die." Tom sat back, "Go back to sleep, Erik, you look exhausted."

"So do you, old man." Erik smirked a little.

"Not too old." Tom snorted and watched Erik retreat back to the safety and warmth of his lover. 

 


	4. Role Reversal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as smexy as other chapters, more of a healing and backstory chapter.

 

Raoul glanced up from his book again, this was the hundredth time he had caught Erik staring at him and it was getting ridiculous. The blonde huffed and put a marker in the book, setting it aside and tilting his head,

“Erik, is there something you wanted?”

Erik blinked and he put his charcoal pencil down and rubbed his grimy hands on a rag, “Want something? Uh, no, no I don’t particularly _want_ something at this exact point in time, not to say that there isn’t something on my mind in which case there always is, I find that if I were to constantly voice these things, it would essentially drive people mad but-“

Raoul held up his hand, “Alright, alright, I’m sorry I asked!”

Erik blinked, smiling a little bit ; “Forgive me, I was merely teasing you. You asked the wrong question, you see.”

Raoul shook his head, smiling himself, “Alright, is there something in particular on your mind that you wish to discuss, then?”

Erik looked down at the sketches he’d been making of the last performance based on glimpses of costume and set designs he’d gotten while lurking backstage this past week, “Yes, there- . . . there is.”

“Anything I can assist you with?” Raoul leaned forward on his elbows, cocking his head to one side.

“Raoul, I . . . “ Erik struggled with himself for a moment, then he huffed and drew himself up in the chair, set his jaw, and took a deep, steadying breath, “I want to try.”

Raoul blinked slowly, “Try what?”

Erik closed his eyes and licked his lip before answering, “I want you to . . . with . . . me.”

Raoul stared at Erik, still not comprehending what exactly Erik was asking until-

“Oh . . . Oh! You want me to-?” Raoul blushed deeply and gripped the edge of the table.

Both were quiet for a moment before Erik cleared his throat and shifted his weight, “I didn’t particularly mean right at this very moment, Raoul. Just that, when the time comes, I would like for us to engage in sexual congress with our roles reversed.”

Raoul grimaced, “You make it sound like such a formal affair.”

Erik shrugged, “It is what it is.”

Raoul sighed and leaned his cheek on his fist, “So what brought this thought on then?”

Erik sat back in his chair, visibly relaxing if only a little, “I supposed that being a couple and that we have explored many things together, I felt that the sexual aspect of our relationship should be . . . equal. I didn’t feel it was right or correct for me to constantly be the um . . . I don’t know how to put it any other way, forgive my ignorance, dear, but the _man_ of the coupling and that I should share the experience with you on that level. I also thought that I would like to . . . “ Erik blushed a little, looking down at his fingernails and picking a piece of dirt out from under one, “ . . . relearn that particular happening.”

Raoul furrowed his brow, “What do you mean, ‘relearn’?”

Erik looked up, his blue eyes looked oddly vulnerable and Raoul felt like the older man was searching for that same answer until he finally opened his mouth to speak,

“I told you of my past encounters with sex.”

“Well yes, but I don’t see how that coincides with- . . . oh.” Raoul blinked as the realization of what Erik was getting at hit him.

“I want to associate sex with good feelings and emotions,” Erik elaborated, tracing a pattern on the wooden table, “I understand from our own coupling that it is enjoyable judging by your facial expressions and how you just . . . seem to be completely ecstatic the entire time. So then I would like to re-associate the act of being, erm, well, _fucked_ as something that can instead be considered having love made to me. I would like that. Very much in fact, if it would only banish away the last residue of my miserable past-existence.”

Raoul nodded slowly, “I hadn’t realized how deeply it affected you. Perhaps we should start by talking about it more? Your past I mean. I know that it hurts you to bring up such things and I know that you were not happy in any sense of the word but I don’t want to be the source of such pain, so . . . talk to me, tell me what happened and how I can proceed without frightening you.”

Erik glanced to the side for a moment then shook his head, “Not here, let’s . . . let’s go somewhere safer.”

Raoul watched Erik stand, “Safer? Alright.”

Raoul stood and pushed his chair in, allowing Erik to take his hand and lead him to their bedroom. Erik sat on the bed, sliding up to the pillows and sitting back, he motioned for Raoul to do likewise and soon they were sitting in one of their favorite positions, Raoul curled up between Erik’s legs with his head on the taller man’s chest while Erik stroked his soft, blonde hair.

“The first time someone touched me was when I was quite young. I do not remember how old I was because I’m not quite sure as to my age now.” Erik began, closing his eyes and taking off his mask, running a hand over his scars, “It was after my poor, unhappy mother gave me away-“

“Why do you always refer to her as ‘poor and unhappy’?” Raoul asked, lifting his head a bit.

Erik furrowed his brow, “Because that was what she was. She was deeply unhappy, whether over my appearance or her own loss, I do not know, she would not tell me of such things but I do not think she hated me.”

“She gave you away.” Raoul pointed out, running a hand slowly over Erik’s arm.

“Yes but I do not think she wanted to . . . Raoul, there were moments when she would . . . look at me like she really saw me. She would sing . . . almost as if to me, from another room.” Erik closed his eyes as if he could hear her again, ever so faintly, “I know she must have cared for me on some plane, otherwise why let me live beyond infancy? Perhaps I am imagining such kindness, but it was all I had.”

“Tell me about her, what do you remember?” Raoul was infinitely curious about Erik’s past and eager to find something easier for the scarred man to talk about.

Erik looked down at Raoul, fully aware of what he was doing but only smiled and stroked a thumb over the blonde’s cheek,

“I remember she had soft brown hair, curly and long and she kept it in a braid down her back. She was so beautiful, not vain, she did not fear my face I think, more that she wanted to hide me from the world. I want to believe that she did what she felt was right . . . “ Erik closed his eyes again and tilted his head back, “Daffodils, I remember daffodils in a blue vase on the table . . . I remember wanting to hold one and touch its soft petals but not wanting to mar its beauty with my own hideousness . . . you see, I knew I was ugly, I knew I was not normal or beautiful because I glimpsed myself in Mother’s looking glass and I _knew_ that a child should not have this face. She . . . she took one out of the vase and asked if I knew what was wrong with it. I said, ‘how could there be anything wrong with something so perfect?’ . . . and she smiled and showed me that there was a withered petal, hidden behind another broad yellow one and she-“ Erik’s voice cracked, “I-I’ve never told anyone this, not even Tom, but she . . . she gave it to me and told me, ‘there is beauty in every imperfection and imperfection in every beauty’. She smiled at me . . . “ Erik bit his lip tightly, “Why did she smile if she was just going to give me away? I suppose it was out of some kind of pity . . . some kind of obligation or maternal instinct maybe?”

Raoul sat up more to wipe at Erik’s eyes gently with his shirtsleeve, “I don’t know . . . but, she must have loved you, Erik, she must have! Why else say such things or indeed, keep you with her? Oh, love, don’t cry . . . “

Raoul held Erik to his chest and gently soothed the older man until he calmed enough to continue.

Erik cleared his throat and composed himself, “As, ahem, as I was saying, the first time . . . I remember being tied by my ankle to a spoke on a wagon wheel that first night I was taken from my mother by the Gypsies. I did not understand their speech so I did not know what was going on. They beat me when I cried and fed me a strange gruel and then they began to drink,” Erik grimaced, “I remember them . . . stumbling about and celebrating something while the women carried jugs of strong alcohol and were pawed by the dozen or so men in the camp. One of the younger men, maybe in his late teenage years, staggered over to me and started talking. I couldn’t understand him but he kept gesturing to my face, which I had learned by now wasn’t just strange to me but was hideous and frightening to other people, so I was hiding it as best I could with my shirt. He sat down next to me and tried to put his hand on me. I pushed him away and then, he hit me and I fell over backward. Alcohol was poured all over my face and I was choking on it, it got in my eyes and nose and I couldn’t see anything but there was a hand . . . in my trousers.”

There was silence in the room and Raoul shifted up to lean back on one hand, his face stormy as he glared at a fold in the comforter,

“We don’t have to . . . speak of such things if it causes you pain. I know I said that we should but this . . . it’s almost too much for me,” Raoul squeezed his eyes shut, “Just to hear you _talk_ about it makes me feel ill and I-I don’t like thinking of you being put in such a position, as a child, no less! It’s-It’s deplorable! It’s disgusting! How could they . . . ?”

Erik looked at Raoul as the younger man’s speech pulsed with his rage. He smiled slightly and took Raoul’s hand, gently squeezing it,

“Raoul.”

“I would- hm?” Raoul blinked and looked up at Erik.

“That was how many years ago. This is now. This is us. The past, as painful as it is for me to rekindle, is just that, the past. The ghosts of those events haunt me, but they no longer drive me to despair as they once did, I have you and that is all I need to feel safe in my own mind.” Erik leaned forward and kissed Raoul’s cheek, “We will not talk of this anymore, if not for my own benefit then to protect you from such things since they upset you so.”

Raoul bit his lip, “Yes but I want you to know that if you ever wish to talk to me about what has been, I will listen without complaint, though do not be surprised if I feel an overwhelming urge to strangle any of those ‘ghosts’.”

Erik chuckled and nodded, “Agreed and thank you, my dear one.”

 

Raoul and Erik were reclining in the bath later that night, Raoul opened one eye and peered through the steam at Erik while the older man slid lower into the water, his eyes closed and his arms spread over the rim of the tub.

The younger man smiled and slid forward, sifting through the bubbles until he was settled on top of Erik’s front, running his hands over Erik’s thick chest hair. Erik’s eye opened a crack and he considered Raoul for a moment,

“What do you want, poppet?” He asked roughly, already knowing what Raoul wanted as their manhoods brushed against each other.

“I’m just looking for a little attention.” Raoul smiled, closing his eyes contentedly and sighing.

Erik huffed and ran his hands over Raoul’s wet shoulders and back, closing his eyes as he did so. They were quiet for a few moments before Raoul spoke, shifting his head onto Erik’s shoulder,

“Erik?”

“Hm?”

“ . . . despite everything, I-I’m glad you decided to talk to me about what happened.” He slid up to kiss Erik’s nose and nuzzle into his cheek, “I love you, Erik.”

“And I love you, my pet.” Erik murmured, pulling Raoul closer to his chest.

There was a bit more silence before Erik looked down at Raoul,

“So show me then.”

Raoul blinked in confusion, “Show you . . . ? Oh. Oh! I, uh, alright.”

They got out of the tub and dried off, moving into the bedroom. They sat awkwardly on the bed for a moment before Raoul turned and gestured for Erik to move back on the bed and soon followed him,

“So, how do you want to do this?” Raoul asked softly, trying to keep his blush under control even as his heart thudded painfully in his chest.

“I thought we’d just do it how we normally do it.” Erik shrugged slightly, grimacing a bit.

Raoul nodded, “Alright then.”

He moved forward and they kissed, it was a bit hesitant and nervous at first but soon they were deepening the kisses and hands moved to touch, stroke, and press at sensitive places that seemed to hum with energy. Nervousness gave way to desperation as Raoul bit Erik at the juncture between the shoulder and neck, eliciting a loud cry from Erik, whether in surprise or pleasure, Raoul didn’t know, he only bit again and harder, understanding why Erik liked it so much before moving down to suck and lick at Erik’s stomach, feeling the muscles twitch under his taunt skin,

“Erik,” Raoul whispered against the moist skin, “Are you ready?”

Erik closed his eyes and groaned, “Yes.”

Raoul nodded and moved lower, nuzzling into the nest of curls that surrounded Erik’s cock before delving lower, he gently pushed Erik’s legs so that his knees were bent and spread then glanced once more at the older man, staring at his body, exquisitely stretched out on the sheets with fists tangled in them, toes curling and uncurling with anticipation, mouth open in a slight pant and eyes hooded and dark with need. Raoul smiled and kissed Erik’s thigh lightly,

“Good.”

With that, Raoul dipped his head and licked the cleft of Erik’s backside, making the scarred man arch his back and groan. The blonde chuckled softly against Erik's skin and continued, spreading Erik open and pushing his tongue against Erik's entrance. Erik gasped and shivered, squeezing his eyes shut tightly and suddenly, he started to talk.

Raoul lifted his head and blinked, Erik was babbling too rapidly under his breath to be understood at all and it was alarmingly close to the tone of a man begging that it gave the blonde pause. He sat up a bit and leaned over Erik,

“Erik, love, are you alright?”

Erik didn't stop his muttering and only nodded once, his eyes still closed.

Raoul sighed, “Alright, I'm going to keep going then.”

Erik nodded once more then made a strangled sound when Raoul's tongue prodded his anus, his muttering got louder and faster until he was babbling loudly. Raoul continued, wondering if Erik was trying to perhaps distract himself from what was going on? Was this a defense mechanism? The constant talking, an odd thing from someone who was always so silent. Raoul sat back and grabbed the small bottle of oil off the nightstand and applied a healthy amount to his cock, perhaps Erik was always so talkative during sex because he was that frightened of it? Or perhaps that was when he was the most relaxed, which would make the most sense any other time but now.

Raoul eased himself into Erik, giving the scarred man a moment while his body was rigid and then trembled violently.

“Erik, do you want me to stop?”

“No.” Erik snapped, his eyes still closed, “I can do this.”

Raoul waited for Erik to relax and adjust but he remained stiff as a board and his body was showing no signs of enjoyment at all. The blonde leaned forward, sliding himself in as far as he would go,

“Erik, I'm going to start moving, is that alright?”

Erik nodded, once more taking up whatever mantra it was that he'd been intoning.

Raoul began thrusting into Erik, relishing the heat and tightness around his cock, it was fantastic! He was about to comment but then he stopped himself as Erik twitched and trembled, his muscles still as tense as before. Raoul bit his lip and pulled back and out. Erik snapped up,

“What's wrong?”

“You seem like you are not liking any part of this.” Raoul shook his head, “I don't like thinking that I'm hurting you.”

“No, I was fine.” Erik blinked, “I . . . sorry, I'll try to relax a bit.”

“What were you saying?” Raoul asked, tucking some of his hair behind his ear.

“During? Just . . . just reminding myself that . . . uh, that you love me and that you won't hurt me, that I'm safe and in my home . . . sounds rather silly now that I think of it.” Erik looked away and sighed, “I would like to continue, I'm sorry if I seem rather unresponsive but this will take some getting used to.”

Raoul nodded slowly, “Alright, if you're sure?”

“Yes, very much so.”

Raoul nodded again, he moved closer and slid back into Erik's heat, sighing contentedly as he started a smooth, slow rhythm, trying to make this as easy as he could for Erik.

It didn't last nearly as long as Raoul hoped but that was probably for the best. Raoul curled himself around Erik and sighed, putting his hand between Erik's legs,

“Was that too much?”

“No, actually it was quite fine.” Erik looked slowly at Raoul, “I'm sure that once I've become accustomed to this, I'll be much more active.”

“Do you want me to-?”

“Oh, no, I'm actually a bit preoccupied thinking about what just took place.” Erik said softly, “I think I'd just like to lie here for a while with you, poppet.”

Raoul smiled, “I can do that.”

Erik nuzzled Raoul's cheek and smiled, “Thank you, my angel.”

Raoul kissed Erik's nose lightly, “You're welcome, Erik.”


	5. An Occasion for Gifts

Erik sat on the edge of the lake, his head cocked to one side as he listened to the steady dripping of the stalactites and the soft lapping of the water on the shore. Raoul smiled while he watched the man, sidling up slowly behind Erik and sliding his first two fingers under Erik's shirt collar,

“Happy birthday, Erik.” Raoul whispered in his ear when he sat behind him, Raoul's fingers started to gently knead the base of Erik's neck.

Erik smiled, rolling his head back and sighing, “You remembered? Thank you, my love . . . oh, lower.”

Raoul smiled and started to massage Erik's shoulders, feeling the knots, “So tense . . . “ Raoul trailed kisses from Erik's shoulder up to his ear, “Relax . . . “

Erik groaned softly, his eyes closing, his back and neck curling, “Mmnh . . . oh, Raoul . . . “

Raoul chuckled softly in Erik's ear, his thumb pressing tight circles on Erik's shoulder-blades, “Hows that?”

“So . . . damn, so good.” Erik laughed, looking at Raoul before standing quickly and taking Raoul's hand, “Come on, there will be plenty of time for that afterward, first, I want my present from Father.”

Raoul sighed and let Erik hurry him along the passage that led to Tom's workshop.

Erik looked around, but alas, no Tom was to be found, Erik scowled, “Hmph!”

“Oh, Erik, be patient, I'm sure he won't be long.” Raoul consoled, trying to assuage the situation.

Erik glared around the room, “How dare he keep me waiting on my birthday, well, I suppose I will have to find a way to keep myself entertained.”

Raoul watched Erik cross the room and open one of the many cabinets, “Erik, please don't break anything.“

“Oh, hush, I'm allowed to do whatever I want today.” Erik shot Raoul a look and tugged a small box off one of the shelves, he set it carefully on the floor and knelt down next to it.

Raoul couldn't suppress his curiosity, so he knelt next to Erik, peering in as the lid was lifted off the box. Inside were several objects wrapped in newsprint and surrounded by wool, “What are they?”

Erik just smiled and selected one of the parcels, he carefully unwrapped it and held it up for Raoul to see, the Vicomte couldn't hold in a gasp of wonder at the object. It was a small globe held in place on an intricately carved, wooden base, Erik held the stand in one hand and spun the globe with the other, Raoul shrugged, it was an interesting bauble, that much was true, but then Erik lifted it to the light of one of the candles in the room and Raoul gasped again.

The light went through the globe and images of running deer frolicked across the bolts of cloth leaning on the wall and the cabinets. It was like nothing Raoul had ever seen before, then Erik pulled it out of the light and the racing deer vanished,

“What was . . . ?” Raoul asked softly, his eyes transfixed on the small globe.

“You like it? Tom got it for his wife when they were first married. He told me that the artist that made it somehow cut the deer into the glass without breaking it. I would desperately like to know how so I could try to replicate it.” Erik smiled and wrapped the globe back up, setting it carefully in its place in the box, “Here's something your inquisitive mind could appreciate.”

Raoul was about to defend himself from that statement, Erik was equally, if not more, inquisitive than him, but before he could, Erik pulled another parcel out and unwrapped it, revealing a small, leather-bound notebook. Erik carefully undid the clasp and peeled the leather cover back, uncovering the delicate paper, worn yellow with age.

“What are these?” Raoul's eyes became wide again as he looked at the pages.

“Tom's designs, or some of them, at least.”

Throughout the pages were the most detailed designs for costumes, masks, sets, props, and the like. They were beautiful and colorful and rich, Raoul found that the longer he stared at a particular design, the more detail he could pick up on.

“You know, Tom was the one that taught me to draw and paint.” Erik said softly, closing the notebook and carefully replacing the clasp. He wrapped the book back up and replaced it like the globe.

“He did?” Raoul looked around, trying to see any other evidences of such artistic ability, but, no, it wasn't like Erik's workshop where everywhere you looked was another drawing or painting.

“Yes, And I taught him about music,” Erik smiled, scooting closer to Raoul, taking his hand gently, “He really had no appreciation for it before.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Raoul leaned against Erik's shoulder.

“Heh, really, it all happened when he was working and I started to sing, after that, he's done nothing if not supply my talents.” Erik smiled, “Could you believe the man can barely read or write?”

“Havin' fun?”

Both men jumped at the voice directly behind them, Raoul was shocked that such a big man could sneak up on anyone, let alone the Phantom of the Opera.

“Father, don't do that!” Erik snapped, standing up and quickly putting the box back on its shelf.

“Hm, goin' through my things isn't nice, Erik.” Tom crossed his arms.

“It's my birthday, I do what I want.” Erik glared at Tom and crossed his arms.

“Oh? Is that right?” Tom grinned devilishly.

“Yes, it is.” Erik narrowed his eyes.

“Then I suppose you won' be wantin' yer present?” Tom winked knowingly at Raoul, who snickered.

Erik's eyes widened, “No, I want it! I do!”

“Then sit down like a _good boy_.” Tom instructed.

Erik immediately sat down on one of the stools, gripping his knees excitedly, Tom snorted and walked over to one of the cabinets, pulling a wrapped flat box tied up with string down from one of the shelves, he walked over and set it on Erik's lap. Raoul was about to make a comment about a certain someone's maturity not matching their age, but the loud tearing of paper cut off any words he might have wanted to say. Tom chuckled and sat back,

“Ya act like a child on Christmas.”

Erik was too busy flinging the lid off to notice this last observation, his eyes widened and he smiled, tugging a black garment out of the box and holding it up for all to see.

It was a long black dress coat with a high collar and silver clasps to the waist, but that wasn't what made Raoul stare in awe, along the waist-hem was delicate stitching that spanned from the back and worked its way to the front, it was panorama of the Don Juan opera, in the middle of the back was the stage, complete with set, actors, and a little Erik in costume, singing to a little Christine, there was the orchestra in the pit, each of their instruments partially visible, and part of the audience. The top ot the stitching was the chandelier as it looked that night and the front was a sort of swirling pattern that, if Raoul looked at it long enough, looked like flickering flames.

“Took a bloody long time to make, you better appr-”

Tom didn't get to finish as Erik launched himself forward, wrapping his arms around the big man's waist and hugging him tightly,

“Thank you! Its beautiful!” Erik beamed up at Tom before stepping back to hold the coat out again, taking in every detail.

Tom chuckled, “Well, I imagine that you an' Raoul have plans for today? Why don'cha go on, then?”

Erik nodded quickly, taking Raoul's hand and running back the way they'd come, Raoul could hear Tom laughing from behind them, until it turned into muffled coughing.

* * *

Erik turned in the mirror again, admiring his reflection in his new coat, Raoul shook his head,

“Narcissist.”

Erik blinked at him, “I am not.”

“Yes, you are, whether you wish to admit it or not, you are.” Raoul smiled, sliding up behind Erik, his hands sliding over the Phantom's shoulders, feeling the crisp new cloth under his hands, relishing Erik's warmth.

“Hm, what do you think?” Erik asked, looking over his shoulder at Raoul.

Raoul smiled, kissing Erik's cheek and resting his chin on Erik's shoulder, “You look absolutely gorgeous.”

Erik blushed, “I-I do?”

“Yes.” Raoul looked at them in the mirror, “Stark contrast to me . . . “

“Hm, your clothes are looking a bit shabby, dear.” Erik turned and rested his arms on Raoul's shoulders, “Don't worry about it, Tom will have your suits done in no time at all and then you'll be back to your foppish self.”

“A fop?” Raoul blinked, “You think I'm a _fop_?”

“Yes, I'm a Narcissist and you're a fop, we're the perfect pair.” Erik teased, striding over to his desk and rifling through some papers.

“So . . . “ Raoul watched him, “What did you have in mind for the evening?”

“There's a performance I'm hoping to go to, I've been a harsh critic and there is a slim chance this one will be worth my time.” Erik didn't look up, “Assuming that anyone listened to me.”

“I'm sure you struck the fear of God into them.” Raoul smiled, “You are very intimidating.”

“Am I?” Erik cocked his head to the side, still not looking at Raoul, his fingers trailing absently over his papers.

“Yes, if you haven't noticed, people scurry away when they think you're in the vicinity.” Raoul leaned against the rock wall.

“Oh, that, yes, I thought you meant I intimidate _you_.” Erik went back to his papers.

Raoul shifted slightly, staring at the lake, “If you want the truth . . . sometimes you do.”

Erik turned to look at Raoul, his body shifting to rest his weight on one leg, he pursed his lips and his brow made a sharp angle toward his nose, “I do?”

“Mn, well, you have to admit you can be a tad, at times.” Raoul shrugged, sorry he even mentioned it.

“ . . . I suppose it's just in my nature?” Erik sighed, tilting his head back, eyes shifting about.

“Sorry, we don't need to talk about this right-”

“Raoul, I want to play something for you.” Erik said, his hand reaching out and pulling Raoul closer, “I finished my composition, but I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it. Would you mind?”

“No, not at all.” Raoul blinked, he'd rarely heard Erik sing since he came to live with him, so he wasn't surprised when his heart was thudding painfully in his chest. They went through into the sitting room where Erik kept his violin and piano against one wall.

Erik started to play gently along the ivory keys, the music swirling around them like warm water, then Erik opened his mouth and mixed his sweet tenor with the music.

* * *

The music faded slowly and Erik's fingers slid lovingly over the now-silent keys,

“What do you th- Raoul, why are you crying?” Erik's face contorted in dismay.

“I'm not- I mean, God, Erik, it was beautiful . . . “ Raoul hiccupped, wiping at his eyes to try and stop the tears, but alas it was to no avail.

Erik smiled, “You silly,” He gathered Raoul to him and gently kissed the young man's cheek, “Why do you always cry when you're happy?”

“I don't know . . . “ Raoul mumbled, cuddling closer to Erik.

“Hm, well, no more crying on my birthday.” Erik commanded, tapping Raoul's forehead and standing up, “Now, be a good boy and stay here, I have a few things to do before tonight, so I won't be back until la-”

“You're going out?” Raoul cut him off.

“I'm not leaving the Opera House, but yes, essentially I am.” Erik raised an eyebrow, “Is this a problem?”

“Well, can I come with you?” Raoul stood up as well, tugging on his shirt sleeve.

“No, stay here.” Erik pointed at the floor, “I won't be more than a few hours.”

Raoul was about to protest, but thought better of it, if Erik wanted to go off on his own, why not? It was his birthday after all, “A-Alright, be safe.”

Erik nodded his approval and left without another word. Raoul moved to one of the couches, slumping into it and sighing, the song was still drifting through his head and Raoul couldn't help but wonder about Erik's aloofness, he always was disappearing for hours at a time. It was sometimes taxing on Raoul's nerves.

* * *

Raoul was in the pantry, eating an apple, when Erik finally returned,

“Well, shall we catch the performance, or are you intent on getting fat?”

Raoul yelped indignantly when Erik pinched his middle, grabbing at the bit of flesh there,

“I'm not getting fat!”

Erik smiled, leaning very close to Raoul, his breath hot and smelling vaguely of spiced wine, “I'm only teasing, let's go.”

They went up another of Erik's many passages to the surface, Raoul was about to step into Erik's private box, but Erik stopped him, pushing his back to the wall. Erik smiled with hooded eyes, he leaned closer, kissing Raoul's neck wetly, sucking at his pale skin, Raoul's eyes widened and he looked about him uneasily,

“Erik, someone will, _hah_ , see us!” He hissed, biting his lip to hold in a moan when Erik's hand palmed him through his trousers.

“No they won't, everyone is in their seats by now, don't fret.” Erik murmured against Raoul's neck, he pulled away and went into his box, holding the curtain and raising an eyebrow at Raoul, “Coming?”

Raoul swallowed and tried to get control of himself, damn Erik, but he knew what he was doing to Raoul, “Y-Yes.”

Raoul took his seat next to Erik, pressing his knees together and grimacing, he felt Erik take his hand, squeezing it lightly,

“You are such an ass.” Raoul muttered.

“I'm a what?” Erik looked at Raoul, glancing back at the stage as the dancing girls paraded on.

“You heard me, how the _hell_ am I supposed to pay attention now?” Raoul took a deep breath and tried to turn his focus to the stage, only to snap to attention when he felt Erik's breath on his ear.

“Dear me, Raoul, that was just a precursor for what is to come tonight. What's wrong, poppet? _Aroused_?”

Raoul didn't deem to ask why he'd just been called 'poppet' (really, of all the things Erik had called him, _poppet_ sounded so ridiculous!), that and the blush on his face meant he didn't have to speak. Erik chuckled softly, but turned to the stage,

“You'll just have to be patient, I am intent on seeing this performance, so sit still.”

Raoul shot Erik a dark look, biting his lip and shivering, then he blinked, his eyes sliding slowly back to Erik, then down to Erik's waist, and sure enough,

“Hm, seems I'm not the only one with a problem.” Raoul snorted, “You know, I have yet to give you your present.”

Erik stiffened, looking at Raoul out of the corner of his eyes, “Raoul, don't, I want to-”

“I think I know what you want.” Raoul leaned closer, kissing Erik's jaw and making his way to his chin, nipping at his lower lip and earning a full-body shiver from Erik.

“Mmnh . . . “ Erik closed his eyes, “So you can read minds, very clever.”

Raoul smiled, checking to make sure that no one was watching them before sliding to the floor, he pushed Erik's knees apart and carefully slid his pants down. He glanced up at Erik, noting the anxious look and how flushed the left half of his face was, the right was the ever-present, impassive porcelain.

Raoul lowered his head and took Erik's cock into his mouth, sliding his tongue expertly up and over the hot length, hearing Erik hiss softly, Raoul chuckled to himself at how Erik was losing control so quickly.

The Phantom gripped the armrests of his chair so tightly that his leather gloves groaned and he slid lower into his seat, hips rolling slowly into Raoul's mouth. Erik panted, his eyes sliding up into his skull and his mouth hung open, one hand released the chair and slid down to Raoul's head, his shaking hand tangling into the Vicomte's blonde tresses. Erik groaned softly, his toes curling in his shoes as he tried to stop from sliding to the floor. It was maddening at how one person could cause him to lose his mind like this. Very strange, Erik thought, as his mind had never been quiet in his whole life, there was always some thought trickling through his brain, whether it was inventive or musical or otherwise, he was always thinking, always pondering, always questioning . . . but the second he and Raoul entered sexual congress, his mind went blank and the only remaining thoughts were those of desire, lust, love, the innate urge to pleasure his partner.

At first, it had been a novelty, Erik was curious, never having explored his sexuality to the extent that he wasn't feeling cornered or afraid, having Raoul for the one night was a wonderful little diversion from his misery, an interesting experiment, indeed the first days (or was it weeks?), Erik had only let Raoul stay for fear that a scorned Vicomte would bring the authorities, death perhaps frightened Erik more than anything else. Erik had tried to stay distant from the problem, the _question_ of Raoul, but . . . as of recently, he couldn't bear to be apart from him, leaving this morning had been yet another experiment, just to see how it felt to be alone again.. It was, in a word, torture.

So now Erik looked down at Raoul, stroking the blonde's hair gently and humming softly, Erik found that now that his mind was back in the present, the waves of pleasure crashed over him harder and harder, he curled his spine and hitched up one of his legs, hooking it behind Raoul and pulling him closer,

“Hah, just . . . just there, Raoul.”

Raoul glanced up at Erik, he pulled back, his hand sliding down on Erik's manhood, “Don't make too much noise.”

Erik snorted and relaxed, a bit put-out that Raoul's mouth was engaged in activities other than pleasuring him, but he swallowed, closed his eyes and sighed. Raoul kept the pace slow and careful, not wanting Erik to yell or something and thus causing the audience to notice them. Raoul could tell Erik was close, his whole body was shuddering and his hips were making more deliberate pushes into his hand. Raoul let go and pressed his lips down on Erik, catching his release on his tongue and swallowing it, Erik had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to stop a yell, then he sighed heavily, shaking his head and sitting up, he tugged his trousers back up and smoothed down his coat.

Raoul wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and sat back down, marveling at how Erik was once more, intently watching the opera. He shook his head and sat back,

“Well?”

“Well, what?” Erik asked softly, not looking at Raoul.

“Aren't you supposed to spew words of poetry and love to me?” Raoul sighed after a few moments passed with no reaction in the other man, how could he be so engrossed in the opera when moments before he was a shuddering mess under Raoul's careful ministrations?

Erik didn't look at Raoul, but said softly, “ _Amor meus amplior quam verba est.”_

Raoul blinked at him, “What does that me-”

“ _My love is more than words_. It's Latin.” Erik murmured, reaching out and taking Raoul's hand again.

Raoul blinked at him, “How do _you_ know Latin?”

“I read, now be quiet, Raoul.” Erik stretched his long legs out in front of him, Raoul smiled and settled back in his chair.

“You _do_ love me.”

“Hm, I'd love you more if you'd be quiet.”

* * *

Raoul blushed deeply, each breath huffed out of his nostrils and his eyes were wide, “ . . . well, damn.”

Erik smirked, “Is it that good?”

“And a half.” Raoul shook his head, “I've been fantasizing about that costume for awhile now, if you must know.”

Erik chuckled, stalking closer to Raoul, the long scarlet cloak skimming the stone floor. He was dressed in his Masquerade costume, Red Death, the skull mask in place with the heavy eye make-up and sword. He tilted his head back, looking down at Raoul. The blonde swallowed heavily,

“You want to have sex while wearing that?”

“That is the idea, why? Aren't you aroused?” Erik snickered, sauntering behind Raoul, his leather gloves taking hold of Raoul's waist, kneading his belly, Erik purred softly, “Hm?”

“Aha . . . “ Raoul snorted, leaning back and trying to nip at Erik's jaw, “Bastard . . . “

“Possibly,” Erik shrugged.

Raoul felt Erik's hands release him as the older man sat down on the bed, watching him intently, Raoul started to undress, keenly aware that Erik was sporting an impressive erection, the man's stamina and sexual appetite was simply astonishing at times. Raoul stood there, naked and flushed, he slowly moved toward Erik, straddling the older man's waist and grinning slightly, Erik took hold of Raoul's hips, smiling up at him before rolling him over, Raoul fell onto the bed with an _oof_ and then he felt Erik's warm body leave his. Erik stood in front of Raoul, smirking at the younger man,

“Look at you, desperate for me . . . what a remarkable thing, this 'love'. How it twists the world and makes even the most ridiculous acts seem so perfect and logical. I'm standing in front of a man, well, _boy_ really, that I thought was my arch-rival, and yet, here we are, you naked and blushing, and me, erect and eager for you. Hm, do you find it difficult to wrap your head around? This conundrum that we have conjured, my darling Vicomte? Do you find it sickening how much we need each other? How we're helplessly led about by our desires to the point of indecency?”

“Erik, shut up.” Raoul snapped, his knees spread wide, his own cock rigid and dripping.

Erik smirked, he lifted his boot and nudged Raoul with it, resting the toe in the crook of Raoul's thigh,

“Like I said, desperate to the point of indecency. Are we mad or just lonely? Have we left our senses so far behind to let our bodies and hearts be used and held by someone that we once hated? Or did we even hate each other? Were we just striving for the same ends that we directed our desires onto someone who was not prepared with dealing with either of us? Did we really want someone so confused, so easily manipulated, or was she just a pawn? Another milestone to trod upon on our way to fulfillment? I, for one, have not thought of her once since you came to me, you are the object of my thoughts, my deepest, most sensual desires are all for you, my darling Vicomte. Right now for instance . . . “

Raoul gave him a hateful look and crossed his arms, “Are you seriously doing a _monologue_ while I'm laying here naked? Do you or do you not want to have sex?”

Erik chuckled, slipping his hand into his pants and tugging his cock out, “My, my, impatient, aren't we?”

 _“Yes,_ we are, and if _we_ don't hurry up, then _we_ will be sleeping alone.” Raoul growled, leaning forward to grab Erik's lapel, dragging him in for a kiss.

Erik moaned into the kiss, holding Raoul's face in his hands and slipping his tongue past willing lips, ravishing the younger's mouth mercilessly until Raoul was a writhing mess, sweat and pre-cum making him sticky and uncomfortable. Erik climbed onto the bed, not breaking the kiss until he was crouching over Raoul, his cloak billowing out behind him like a curtain. Raoul was shaking when Erik's hands ran up and down his body. Their lips finally pulled apart, Erik's mouth went to work on Raoul's neck, worrying new bruises into his pale flesh.

“You taste exquisite . . . “ Erik whispered against Raoul's skin, feeling the Vicomte shiver under him _,_ his hand slid between Raoul's legs, feeling the hardened flesh with his gloved fingers, watching Raoul moan and arch up into the touch. Erik smiled and slid down to the edge of the bed.

“Oh, please, no more monologues!” Raoul panted, propping himself up on his elbows, hazy eyes peering down at Erik.

Erik only smiled, his mouth pressing hard kisses to Raoul's thigh, trailing them down until he reached Raoul's focus, making the younger moan loudly and flop back on the bed. Erik's tongue slid out of his mouth and lapped slowly up the underside of Raoul's cock, lingering on the head before his lips parted and took Raoul in up to the hilt. Raoul cried out, gripping the sheets and gritting his teeth,

“E-Erik!”

Erik didn't pay attention to Raoul, preferring to bob his head and grip Raoul's thighs in both hands, feeling the twitch and shudder of muscles tightening and relaxing as Raoul tried to thrust into Erik's mouth, but the Phantom was much stronger than Raoul and able to hold him in place, his mouth pulling off long enough to growl,

“Behave.”

Raoul whimpered and closed his eyes, willing himself to calm so Erik would keep pleasuring him. Erik continued after a moment to ensure that Raoul would indeed stay put. After a moment or two more, he slid up onto the bed, grasping behind Raoul's knees and pushing his legs up before pushing in slowly. Raoul smiled, it was different this time, firstly, Erik was holding him now, his arms wrapped tightly around Raoul while he pushed, slow and almost gentle, they moved in perfect synchrony. One of Erik's hands went between them, taking Raoul's cock and pumping slowly, Raoul clung onto Erik, smiling and closing his eyes.

 _This is how it should be . . ._ Raoul thought to himself, nuzzling Erik's neck and gripping the lovely scarlet costume in his fists.

Erik smiled at Raoul, turning his head and gently kissing Raoul's lips, thrilling when Raoul eagerly returned the gesture. It was slow, tender love, they were gentle with each other and after they both came in trembling joy, they laid down on the bed and tried to stay awake. Raoul reached up and gently kissed Erik's lips, his hands on the man's chest, carefully undoing each clasp of the costume until the jacket slid easily off Erik's shoulders. Erik watched with a bemused expression on his face while Raoul undressed him, slipping both his boots off, then his trousers, then his underpants, he tilted his head to the side and sat up a bit to allow the Vicomte to pull his shirt off.

Raoul smiled, running his fingers over the hair on Erik's chest, “Happy birthday, Erik.”

“Thank you.” Erik reached out, stroking Raoul's cheek and then pulling Raoul onto his chest, “Even though my knowledge on the subject is vague and scattered, I'd say that it is a safe to say that I do indeed love you.”

Raoul blinked slowly, snorting and looking up at Erik, “I love you too, monologues aside, of course.”

 

 


	6. Scrapped Heartache

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay the reason this hasn't been updated in eons is because the hard drive all the chapters were written on (3+ chapters after 5) pretty much burst into flames and so were apparently lost. Then my boyfriend found the files on one of the hard drives I used to have so I can upload the last few chapters and start the sequel up again (yes, there is a sequel, you're welcome).

Raoul watched Erik sleep, it was a rare thing for the Phantom to stay in bed late into the morning, usually he was up and about before Raoul stumbled in for brunch (he never made it to breakfast, he always slept too late). But, now Erik was sound asleep, curled up in a tangle of sheets, his mouth open while he breathed in and out, chest rising and falling slowly. The Vicomte gently ran his fingers over Erik's soft brownish hair, leaning forward to gently kiss Erik's temple. Erik snuffled in his sleep and rolled onto his stomach, and Raoul grimaced.

The scars on Erik's back were from obvious origins, and Raoul thought it best not to pry, Erik would elaborate if he felt it necessary to do so, prodding him for information was never a good idea. Raoul gently traced his finger over one of the scars, following it like Erik's back was a road map, he stopped when Erik stirred in his sleep, his expression changed and he whimpered, curling up tighter. Raoul blinked, reaching up to gently stroke Erik's hair, this seemed to soothe the Phantom into a more peaceful sleep. Raoul sighed, getting out of the bed and locating his trousers, the cold was no longer noticeable down here and the dark wasn't nearly as frightening, in fact, Raoul would say that he was beginning to enjoy the stillness, the quiet, and the safety of this place.

It was true, he mused once he was in the workshop, running his finger over the organ's keys, all ideas of smuggling Erik off to one of his father's estates and hide away from the world left Raoul, he didn't want to leave this place where he didn't have to be a Viscount or a son or even a member of society with all its etiquette and pleasantries . . . Down here, all he had to do was fritter away his time reading, listening to music, exploring the Opera House, and making love. His only duty was to join Erik in bed at the end of the day and all moments in between were simple perks, the conversations and spooning, the meals and attending operas together . . . they were all gifts that Erik bestowed on Raoul every day. Erik could be his normal, aloof, brooding self and not turn up for days, he could yell and rage at Raoul, but . . . the Vicomte knew that even so, he would still wait for Erik.

Raoul sighed contentedly and looked out over the lake, listening to the water as it lapped the rocky shore, he walked slowly down to the bank, crouching and swirling the water with his fingers, smirking slightly as the ripples scurried away from his hand, retreating across the glassy surface to the far walls.

“Morning.”

Raoul turned around, smiling at Erik, “You slept in.”

Erik raised an eyebrow, running his fingers through his hair, “Apparently.”

Raoul stood up and slowly picked his way up to Erik, wrapping his arms around the man's waist and resting his head on Erik's chest. Erik didn't say anything, his hand sliding over Raoul's back, there was such silence . . . but it didn't bother Raoul like it had before, he actually started to prefer it.

Erik stepped back and moved to the lake, toeing the water before he started to wade into the shallows, he sighed heavily, eyebrows furrowed. Raoul stared at him, he was about to ask what he was doing, but then Erik dove into the water and disappeared. Raoul gasped and stared at where Erik had disappeared, only to snort in amusement when the Phantom resurfaced a few yards away,

“What are you doing?” Raoul called, smiling a little.

Erik turned to look at him, “Swimming, what does it look like?”

“But, why?” Raoul went back to stand up to his ankles in water, crossing his arms.

“I have to stay fit somehow.” Erik swam back over, standing up when he reached waist-height water.

“Is that what you do? Swim?” Raoul watched water drip off Erik's naked body.

“Every morning, before you wake up, yes.” Erik reached the shore, standing up to his thighs in water.

“Ah.” Raoul nodded slowly, “I see.”

“You could stand to do some exercise, you know.” Erik cocked his head to the side and smirked.

“Very funny.” Raoul scowled, crossing his arms.

“Why don't you join me?” Erik offered, gesturing to the water, “It isn't terribly cold or very deep.”

Raoul shuffled his feet and shrugged, “Alright.”

Erik watched approvingly as Raoul dropped his trousers and carefully inched into the deeper water, Erik rolled his eyes and grabbed Raoul's arm and yanked him into the water. Soon they were splashing each other and laughing so loud, the caves seemed to hum with echoes of their merriment. Then they were kissing in chest-deep water, Erik's arms wrapped possessively around Raoul's shoulder, holding him tightly in place, Raoul was about to push for more, but then there was a loud crashing noise, both men snapped their attention to the shore. Erik furrowed his brow and started making his way to the bank, closely followed by Raoul.

“What was-?”

Erik held up his hand, grabbing a pair of trousers and tugging them on, there was another sound and suddenly Erik was running through one of the passages, Raoul pulled on his own pants and hurried to catch up. Then he ran right into Erik's back,

“Oof! Erik, what-?”

Raoul didn't get to finish, Erik was rushing forward again, kneeling on the stone floor and mumbling. Raoul blinked and peered into the strangely dim workshop, they were in Tom's room, so . . . ?

“My God . . . “

Tom was on the ground, convulsing with bloody foam coming from his mouth while he hacked and coughed, his eyes rolled so far back that all Raoul could see were the whites. Erik was kneeling there, sobbing and clinging onto Tom's shirt sleeve, Raoul couldn't hear what he was saying, but Tom was obviously dying . . . Raoul had never seen so much pain in a person's face before, it was frightening, he wanted to leave, to turn and run and never see something like this ever again, but his feet wouldn't move and his eyes were fixed on the dying man. Tom's breath rattled in his throat and he gave a final, pain-wracked gurgle, convulsed and was gone. Erik shook his head,

“No . . . “ He shook Tom's shoulders, “No . . . no . . . no no no no no no NO!”

Erik backed away, some blood that got on his hands was smeared all over the stones, he kept backing away until he bumped into Raoul's legs, tearing the Viscomte's eyes away from the dead man. Erik got to his feet and ran past Raoul, Raoul blinked and took several deep breaths. He was torn between drawing someone's attention to the body or going after Erik. The latter won out as Raoul found his feet pounding down the passage until he came to the house on the lake, he stopped and strained to hear, he needn't have, Raoul could hear Erik clearly all the way in his room.

Raoul made his way to Erik's door, trying the doorknob and finding it unlocked, he pushed the door open. Erik was prostrate on his bed, his whole body shaking and his face buried into the pillows.

“Erik?” Raoul sat on the edge of the bed, hesitantly reaching out to touch Erik's scarred shoulder.

Erik covered his head with his arms and snarled through his tears, “G-Go away! I w-want to be alone, dammit!”

Raoul blinked in shock, “A-Alright, I understand, I'll, um, be in my room.”

Raoul was just standing up when a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist,

“W-Wait, no, don't go! I'm sorry, please, I don't want to be alone, not really!!” Erik's head snapped up, tears rolling off his cheeks, his face contorted in agony.

“Alright, I'm here.” Raoul quickly climbed onto the bed, stroking Erik's back as soothingly as he knew how.

Erik pulled himself into Raoul's lap, pressing his cheek into Raoul's thigh, sobbing so hard that his whole body shook. Raoul was shaking himself, not sure what to do or how to handle this, what do you do when someone's father dies?

“I-I don't know what to say . . . “

“Don't say anything.” Erik muttered, curling up around Raoul, he started to calm to hiccuping sobs, “Just be here.”

“I can do that . . . “ Raoul gently stroked Erik's hair and the back of his neck.

They stayed there for hours until Erik finally got his breathing under control, he sat up slowly, clinging onto Raoul's shoulders and taking several shaky breaths,

“I want to go . . . “

“Go where?” Raoul blinked with concern at Erik.

“Anywhere, I don't care, I can't face that room again, I can't do it! I . . . “ Erik shook his head, “I keep seeing it in my head . . . him, dead . . . he isn't supposed to die like that, not that way . . . “

“ . . . Okay, come on.” Raoul stood up, holding his hand out for Erik.

Erik blinked at him, “What?”

“Let's get your things put away, I'll get someone to move it all and we'll go to one of my father's estates, no one will ask questions, no one will drop in unexpectedly. It'll be just you and me, no one else, we'll be far away from this place and unhappy thoughts and memories. I promise, I'll do my best to take the pain away, I'll protect you.” Raoul knelt down next to the bed, taking Erik's hands and looking up into his face.

Erik blinked, smiling tearfully, “I love you . . . “

They leaned closer and kissed, it was shaky and uncertain, they didn't try for a deeper kiss, it was just soft lips pressed together and eyes closed, then they pulled away. Raoul stood up and led the way back to the workshop.

* * *

Erik sat uneasily in the carriage, he did not like this, not one bit, he glanced at Raoul again, trying to mentally convey his discomfort. Raoul wasn't entirely oblivious to Erik's nervous fidgeting, but he thought it best to ignore it for now as their carriage pulled up the driveway of the huge house. Raoul stepped down, closely followed by Erik, the younger man smiled and took Erik's hand,

“This is all ours, Erik.” He said, gently squeezing Erik's hand as they went up the stairs.

“ . . . it'll do.” Erik murmured as they stepped into the foyer.

Raoul practically glowed with happiness, he just knew they'd be alright once they got settled in,

“I've dropped a line to Mother and Father that I've come home, so I'll be returning to my studies, but,” He added quickly at Erik's look of alarm, “Don't worry, they won't travel out this far, we're safe, love.”

Erik nodded uncertainly and made for the stairs, letting go of Raoul's hand and touching the elegant Mahogany banister,

“You're sure?”

“Yes, Erik, it will be alright, I promise.” Raoul moved to stand on the lower step, smiling reassuringly at him.

Erik looked down into Raoul's soft brown eyes, his fingers reached out and traced Raoul's jaw before he nodded and ascended the stairs. Raoul followed after him,

“This will be our bedroom, here.” Raoul gestured to a large pair of doors.

Erik nodded and pushed one of the doors open, he slowly walked the length of the room and sat down on the edge of the huge four-poster bed, glancing at the heavy red curtains and then fixing his gaze on the floor. Raoul sighed, Tom's death was had been a heavy blow indeed, Erik's usually inquisitive, maddeningly curious nature would _normally_ have him running about exploring every room, picking things up and wanting to know about every painting . . . he was just sitting there, staring blankly at the rug. Raoul sighed and moved to sit down next to Erik, hesitantly touching Erik's hand, Erik glanced at him and snorted at this timidness,

“I'm alright, pet.” Erik said softly, looking at Raoul and taking his hand.

Raoul smiled sadly, “You don't have to pretend, Erik.”

Erik blinked at him, “I'm not . . . he isn't in pain anymore and he believed in heaven, so . . . he's taken care of. I just . . . this is a lot to take in all at once.”

“I see, I suppose after supper you'd like a tour?” Raoul let his head rest on Erik's shoulder, Erik's other hand slid up, stroking Raoul's cheek gently.

“That would be agreeable, yes.” Erik tilted his head to the side, his cheek flush to the top of Raoul's head.

“I already had your things put away in the study, I hope that's alright.”

“That's fine.”

They sat like that for awhile, how long, neither was entirely sure, the only sounds were their heartbeats and breathing, Raoul's eyes even started to close and he didn't even realize that he'd fallen asleep until Erik was shaking him back to wakefulness.

“Hm?” Raoul yawned and stretched, blinking tiredly around the darkened room, “How long . . . ?”

“Well, if I heard the clock rightly, about six hours.” Erik said gently, “We seem to have missed supper.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.” Raoul blushed sheepishly.

“I don't think it was your fault, I let you sleep.” Erik turned his head, “I suppose the tour will have to wait.”

“Ha, yes, I think the trip took more out of me than formerly thought.” Raoul chuckled, stretching again and sighing, “Well, bed then?”

“No.” Erik shook his head, “Not yet.”

“What do you mean?” Raoul blinked slowly.

“Well, I know that . . . we are not formally um, _joined_? But, I want to do something.” Erik stood up, holding his hand out to Raoul.

Raoul wrinkled his forehead in confusion but took the proffered hand and was about to inquire after the meaning of that statement, but Erik was lifting him into his arms.

“What're you-?”

“Hush, pet.” Erik smiled, stepping out of the room and then carrying Raoul back in, Raoul's eyes widened and he wrapped his arms around Erik's neck while the Phantom carried him to the bed, setting him down gently and crouching over him.

“ . . . Erik, we don't have to-” Raoul murmured, his voice straining with concern.

“Hush,” Erik commanded, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Raoul's ear, “Make love to me.”

Raoul shivered and he sighed, rubbing his foot along Erik's calf. Erik slowly undid Raoul's vest and then his shirt, stroking the soft belly-flesh with his fingertips, circling a nipple gently while he kissed Raoul's neck, mouthing his Adam's apple and the dip of his collarbone. Raoul sighed contentedly, tugging Erik's shirt until Erik finally sat back and removed his upper clothing, his trousers straining against his manhood. Raoul laid there, gazing about Erik's muscled body, his strong arms and chest, large hands taking a firm hold of Raoul's hips, he was so dominate that sometimes it was frightening, but Raoul secretly liked being put in his place, every kiss, touch, and caress exuded Erik's strength and confidence, Raoul almost felt female in how easily Erik could overpower him, but it didn't bother him that much, it felt safe and secure in Erik's arms, like an anchor, holding him to the one safe place.

Erik chuckled, slipping Raoul's shoes off and rubbing the balls of his feet with his thumbs. Raoul moaned and stretched,

“Oh, Erik . . . take me.” Raoul begged, sweat making his body glisten slightly in the dying sunlight that streamed in through the window.

“As you wish.” Erik removed Raoul's pants and rested his hand on his inner thigh, his lips finding Raoul's while he pulled off his own trousers.

Raoul wrapped his legs around Erik's narrow waist, undulating his hips and peppering kisses on Erik's shoulders and chest, his hands linked behind the Phantom's neck. Erik put a hand securely behind Raoul's head and the other took his hip, pulling him close and entering him. Raoul moaned and curled his spine, pressing his teeth into Erik's shoulder.

“Agh!” Erik hissed in pain, his eyes watering, he rocked forward, pushing his knees deep into the down-mattress. Raoul arched, keening loudly in a mixture of pain and pleasure as Erik pressed on the secret bundle of nerves buried deep within Raoul.

He grabbed onto Erik's shoulders, his fingernails making little cuts in the soft flesh, Erik snarled but slowed his movements, taking Raoul in his hand and pumping slowly, Raoul sighed in approval and laid back on the bed, his hands going to Erik's biceps, they locked eyes, Erik blinked at Raoul, his free hand running over Raoul's sweaty hair, he dipped his head down and kissed Raoul, the Vicomte responded in kind, opening his mouth and sucking Erik's tongue in eagerly, feeling Erik practically hum with pleasure at such acceptance, Raoul touched Erik's neck lightly, moving them down to press into Erik's chest.

Erik was about to kiss him again, but Raoul threw his weight forward, knocking Erik onto his back, making the older man yelp in surprise,

“What . . . ?”

“Hush.” Raoul murmured, touching a finger to Erik's lips, situating himself and he leaned forward, both hands planted on Erik's chest. Erik's eyes widened, then he chuckled, relaxing and pulling his knees up for Raoul to lean back on.

Raoul closed his eyes and leaned forward again, huffing with concentration, Erik reached up and tucked some of Raoul's hair behind his ear, his fingers trailing down Raoul's torso to his groin, taking a firm grip on his cock and sliding his thumb over the head. Raoul gasped, tilting his head back, biting his lip and gripping Erik's shoulders.

Erik smiled encouragingly, “Come, Raoul, I know you want to, it's alright, you can.”

Raoul panted, nodding and moving more frantically until he cried out and came onto Erik's stomach, Erik grunted and thrust up into Raoul as his cock was embraced more tightly inside of Raoul, finally they were both exhausted and falling asleep. Erik gathered Raoul to his chest, gently kissing him between pants as he tried to find his lungs again. Raoul closed his eyes, not even trying to fight off the fatigue of such activities.

Erik hiccuped and Raoul's eyes opened, he rolled to be facing Erik, he gently wiped at Erik's cheek, catching his tears carefully.

“Sorry,” Erik mumbled, shaking his head and staring up at the ceiling, “I don't understand . . . I was so happy.”

“You can be happy again, my love, I promise, it won't be the same kind of happiness, but it will be there.” Raoul whispered, letting his chin rest on Erik's chest.

“Thank you, pet, I love you.” Erik murmured.

Raoul smiled, “I love you too, it will be alright, Erik.”

Erik nodded, putting his arms across Raoul's back and closing his eyes. They fell asleep shortly after that, with Erik's final thoughts on the notice he pinned to Madame Giry's door explaining that he was leaving and that Tom was dead. It seemed like such a measly, inadequate notice for the man when he'd given everything to Erik . . . 

 


	7. On the Edge

Erik blinked his eyes several times, it took him a moment of sheer panic and falling off the side of the bed to remember where he was and how he got there,

“Ow . . . “ He rubbed the back of his head and sat up.

“You alright?” Raoul mumbled, blinking over the edge of the bed at Erik in surprise.

“Hm,” Erik shook his head to clear the ringing in his ears and climbed back onto the bed, “I haven't woken up to a sunrise in . . . well, a long, long time.”

Raoul scooted closer as Erik settled back against the pillows, “Really?”

'Yes,” Erik looked at Raoul and suddenly, yesterday came crashing down upon him, he swallowed and took a deep breath, “ . . . now I remember.”

Raoul blinked and sighed, resting his head on Erik's shoulder, “Do you . . . want to talk about it?”

“No, I'm fine.” Erik shrugged Raoul off and stood up, “I suppose I should find the kitchen then?”

“Whatever for?” Raoul raised an eyebrow.

Erik blinked at him, “To make food?”

Raoul smiled, “Erik, let the cook take care of that.”

“Cook? You have a cook?” Erik's eyes widened.

“Um, yes.” Raoul sat up, pulling the comforter around his shoulders.

“Hm . . . I see.” Erik tapped his chin and went over to their wardrobe, he selected his clothes and started to pull them on.

“Oh, where are you going _now_?” Raoul whined, scooting to the edge of the bed and shuffling over to Erik, “We don't have to get out of bed right now!”

“Maybe _you_ don't, but if you recall, I am not one to stay in bed late.” Erik raised an eyebrow, “Go back to bed, pet.”

“It isn't really worth it if you aren't there.” Raoul groaned, dropping the comforter and taking Erik's hand, smirking slightly.

Erik raised an eyebrow, “Enticing me will not work, Raoul, I'm already dressed.”

“Well, we both know that that is an easy fix.” Raoul lowered his eyelids seductively.

“Hm, no.” Erik turned and went for the door.

Raoul blinked after him, “Oh, you are _impossible_!”

“One would think that after last night you wouldn't have the energy.” Erik commented, opening the door and stepping out.

* * *

Erik wandered about the house, it was strange being in an actual house with windows and things like that, the sun was painfully cheerful in the sky, Erik felt his melancholy taking over again, as he found a study or some such and slumped into a chair.

He rubbed his temples slowly, taking a deep breath and sighing heavily. He was miserable, his thoughts haunted by Tom's dying breaths and for no reason that he could find, he had a suffocating nightmare about being trapped in the dark with no way out, no light at all . . . just a deep, abyssal darkness that threatened to swallow his psyche without hesitation. He shook his head, it had been many years since such dreams had plagued his mind, he had thought the darkness and he were one, now it would seem that the dark had rejected him once more, leaving him naked and exposed to the world . . . caged and cornered.

Erik blinked at his hands, noting that they were shaking as he clasped them in front of his face, he bit his lip and groaned, this was ridiculous! He wasn't a little boy anymore, he could live on the surface without fear now! He walked out into the hall, Raoul said they'd be safe and quite alone here, and there was nothing to-

_CRASH!_

“Oh, goodness, sir, you gave me such a . . . a . . . fr-fright.”

Erik stood staring wide-eyed at a young woman wearing plain clothes and holding an empty tray, the contents were all over the floor, she'd come around the corner unexpectedly.

“Who are you?” Erik asked, his voice taking on a reflexive, accusatory tone.

“I-I'm . . . I'm Rosette, s-sir.” Rosette's eyes were as wide as Erik's as her gaze traveled to the mask on his face, then she hurried back from whence she came.

Erik let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding and ran back to the bedroom, he wrenched the door open and slammed it behind him, his chest heaving as he looked about wildly, his eyes finally resting on Raoul who was finishing getting dressed,

“Erik, are you alright?” Raoul's face filled with concern.

“There are . . . _people_ here!” Erik gasped out.

“Well, yes, Erik . . . the servants do live here as well-”

“You said we'd be alone! Raoul, there are _people in the house with us_!” Erik hissed, glaring at Raoul

“When I said 'alone', I meant that no one would be dropping in or anything, who do you expect to cook and clean and everything else that needs doing?” Raoul crossed his arms, concern being replaced by amusement or annoyance, it was hard to tell (but then, Erik had never been very good at reading facial expressions).

“Well, um . . . I don't know, I just . . . I didn't expect to see anyone else.” Erik mumbled, feeling very sheepish.

Raoul sighed, “Look, Erik, you're safe here, if they want to keep their jobs, they'll leave you alone.”

Erik nodded then had a thought, “You say 'they', how many are there . . . exactly?”

“Well, three men at the stables, two cooks and three girls that work with them and around the house, the head butler and housekeeper . . . I don't remember if there are more.” Raoul counted off on his fingers and nodded to himself.

Erik groaned in dismay, “And I thought avoiding people at the Opera was difficult! Have you lost your mind? We should never have left!”

Raoul sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Well, we did and we're here now, try to calm down, they won't bother you, I promise.”

Erik moved to the window, staring out to the sprawling lawn silently.

“Erik?” Raoul leaned to the side, staring into Erik's face.

“I'm fine . . . it's fine.” Erik said softly, gripping the windowpane tightly.

“Then . . . do you want some breakfast?” Raoul's hand hovered over Erik's shoulder, not certain with how to proceed.

“No, thank you.” Erik murmured.

“If you're sure, I'm going downstairs.”

Erik nodded curtly and didn't turn until the door closed behind Raoul, he slid to the floor. Even though the dark didn't want him anymore, he desired nothing more than to have a shadowy place to crawl into, somewhere safe, quiet, and most of all, devoid of light. He swallowed, his hands reaching up to touch his masked face, he told Raoul once that he reveled in other people's fear of him . . . and that was the truth, that was the only attention people gave him . . . fear, loathing, disgust . . . negative attention was better than being ignored, at least you know you exist when a person is hurling insults at you.

But now he was sick of it . . . sick to death . . .

* * *

Raoul sighed, staring down at his empty plate, he had hoped that by taking Erik out to the countryside, it would be easier for him to transition into a healthier state of mind, there were no painful memories or hurtful words here, just quiet . . .

“Another of my brilliant ideas.” Raoul groaned, standing from the table and walking slowly through the house, reacquainting himself with it and smiling when fond memories of laughter echoed about from the ghosts of the past. His fingers ran over the detailing of the hallway walls, opening doors here and there to inspect the rooms, then he had a thought.

Raoul went upstairs, knocking on the bedroom door, “Erik?”

“Hm?”

“Can I come in?” Raoul leaned on the doorjamb.

The door opened and Erik stood quietly holding it back, “It's your house.”

“Our house, Erik, come on, I want to show you something.” Raoul reached out to take Erik's hand only for the other man to pull away, taking a step back into the room.

“I think I'll stay in here.” Erik mumbled.

“Oh, come on, Erik!” Raoul followed into the room, taking Erik's hand, “It'll be alright, I'm with you, no one will ask any questions.”

Erik stared at their linked hands and smiled a little, “Alright, then, with you protecting me, what have I to fear?”

Raoul snorted, “Snarky bastard.”

Erik gave Raoul's hand a squeeze, “Lead on.”

* * *

Erik's eyes widened and he did a full turn around the room, his mouth hanging open in awe, “ . . . I . . . “

Raoul smiled, “Welcome to the library, Erik, these are some of my books.”

“ _Some_ of them? Good Lord, I wouldn't be able to read them all in my lifetime!” Erik walked slowly to the end of the room, staring at the beautiful piano with its dark wood and ivory keys, his fingers ran over it slowly, taking a layer of dust with it, “How sad . . . “

Raoul smiled and walked around Erik, sitting down at the bench and placing his fingers on the keys, Erik raised an eyebrow,

“What are you doing?”

Raoul looked at him, “You think I just sat around all day in the Opera house?”

He started to press down keys, producing a slow, cheerful chord on a piano in desperate need of a tuning, Erik smiled, setting his hands on Raoul's shoulders, pressing into Raoul's back as the younger man continued to play. Raoul leaned back on Erik, as the piece came to a close, he looked up at Erik,

“What do you think?”

Erik chuckled, stroking Raoul's soft hair, cupping his chin with the other hand, “I imagine that if the piano wasn't so off-key it would have been lovely.”

Raoul rolled his eyes, “Glad you think so . . . “

Erik leaned down, sliding his lips over Raoul's forehead, leaning over farther to trail down to the Viscomte's mouth, stealing Raoul's upper lip into his mouth, releasing it slowly with a soft noise. Raoul turned around on the bench and Erik slid down to his knees, folding his arms around Raoul's waist and pressing his head against Raoul.

“I'm sorry for not telling you about the servants, to me, it is so commonplace that it completely slipped my mind.” Raoul murmured.

“ . . . I understand, it is not something I am used to, but I imagine I will become accustomed to it.” Erik sighed, closing his eyes and feeling the warmth seeping through Raoul's shirt.

“Glad to hear it . . . “ Raoul ran his fingers over the back of Erik's neck, slipping down his shirt to his shoulder-blade, pressing his hand into the warm flesh.

Erik blinked and looked up at Raoul, “Don't your parents wonder about where you've been?”

“Um, to some extent they do, I told them I went off to England to stay with a friend. So, they let it stay at that.”

“But, they'll want to see you, won't they? I mean, isn't that what parents do, spend time with their children?” Erik asked, releasing Raoul and standing up.

Raoul sighed, “Well, yes, but my parents aren't that concerned since I contacted them.”

“But,” Erik said pointedly, “They _will_ want to see you.”

“I imagine so, they actually have a party coming up in a week or two that they asked me to attend.” Raoul fidgeted, biting his lip guiltily.

“Alright then, go to it.” Erik said calmly, moving to one of the huge bookcases, his eyes traveling about until he found something interesting, he climbed the ladder and reached out for the book.

“Go to it? But, what about you?” Raoul stood next to the ladder, holding the side.

“Raoul, the more you interact with society, the less suspicious people will be, if you stay away from everyone because of me, it won't look right. Just do what you did before us, go to parties, operas, and social events. Be normal.” Erik climbed down the ladder with a heavy volume in hand.

“You want me to leave you here and go out to parties by myself?” Raoul stared after Erik as the older man went to sit down in one of the large sofas near a floor-length window.

“I want you to be like other men your age.” Erik shrugged, opening the book and carefully turning the page.

Raoul stared at him, “And . . . how do you think my parents will act when I seem less than interested in the eligible young women?”

Erik snorted, “I doubt you'll have trouble there, just dance with them and make small talk, I'm sure you've done it before.”

Raoul slumped onto the sofa next to Erik, snapping the book shut, “What about how it makes me feel?”

“I thought the principle of society was meaningless friendships with those of the same status, ridiculous flirtations, and extraordinary amounts of drinking.” Erik tried to open the book again.

“It isn't, it's incredibly uncomfortable for wallflowers and those who would rather stay home with their much more interesting, handsome beau.” Raoul locked eyes with Erik, holding the book closed, “Please don't make me go.”

Erik stared at him, “If you don't go, your parents will continue to ask questions and will eventually insist on visiting you or having you move in with them again. Raoul, go to the party for a few hours, mingle with your fellows, dance with a few girls, drink too much, and then come home. It will look good for your status and no one will wonder what ever happened to Raoul de Chagny.”

Raoul bit his lip, “Without you?”

“That is the idea, yes, I imagine I will attract unwanted attention.” Erik sat back with a long-suffering sigh.

Raoul let go of his book, “I hate to leave you all by yourself, especially in light of what has all taken place, love.”

Erik smiled, planted a small kiss on Raoul's cheek, “Thank you, pet, but I'll be just fine, especially with all these books and the piano to keep me company.”

Raoul looked at him sideways, frowning, “So you'd prefer dusty old volumes and out of tune keys to braving a gaggle of fops for a few hours?”

“Any day of the year, yes.” Erik chuckled.

Raoul sighed, pulling his legs onto the couch and curling up next to Erik, “Alright, I'll go . . . “

“Good boy.” Erik patted Raoul's hair, then pulled his hand back quickly, “Don't bite me.”

Raoul clicked his teeth again and then settled into the cushions, “You bite me all the time.”

“Only to make you behave.” Erik chuckled, resting his hand on Raoul's side.

* * *

Erik avoided the servants as much as possible, the only time he had direct contact was during meals, all other times, he would retreat to the library to play the piano, read, or pursue his many hobbies. Raoul popped his head in the door, watching Erik for a moment before he realized the man was sleeping in front of the large fireplace, several heavy tomes spread around him. Raoul smiled, tiptoeing slowly across the carpet to kneel down next to Erik, he watched the slow rise and fall of the slumbering man's chest, his fingers twitching in his sleep and his eyes darting about behind closed lids. Raoul leaned forward to gently slip Erik's mask off and set it aside, he then slid down to lay on his side, curling against Erik's chest,

“Comfortable, poppet?”

Raoul wrinkled his nose, “'Why poppet'?”

“You don't like it?” Erik looked down at Raoul with half-closed eyes.

“Well, it does sound like a child's pet-name.” Raoul shrugged slightly, feeling Erik's arms snake around him.

“You are a child, Raoul.”

“I'm not that much younger than you, you know.” Raoul pointed out, tapping Erik's chin.

“Not numerically, but definitely maturity-wise.” Erik chuckled.

“I'm an adult, Erik.” Raoul mumbled, pouting slightly.

“Certainly, _poppet_.” Erik smiled, nuzzling into Raoul's hair.

“Hmph.” Raoul sighed, and closed his eyes, “What are you reading?”

“Which book?”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm reading seven different books right now, Raoul.” Erik said matter-of-factually.

“Seven?!” Raoul sat up, staring around at the different books, “Why?”

“I get bored if I read only one at a time, and I can finish all of them in one day if I do it that way.” Erik shrugged, sitting up and tapping one book's worn leather binding.

“Alright, then what are you reading?”

Erik looked around at the books, “Shakespeare's Hamlet and his Midsummer Night's Dream, I find that one whimsical, yet very deep . . . The History of the Germanic Princes, Aristotle's philosophy, a book of assorted poetry, a book on physics, and the Iliad.”

Raoul stared at him, his jaw dropped, “And you comprehend _all of it_ at once?”

“Yes,” Erik raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

“It's just, you realize that some of these books are meant as university textbooks?”

“Hm, they are?” Erik tilted his head, “I just find them incredibly interesting and they fill my head with many different ideas.”

Raoul shook his head, “You'd fit in quite well at any social gathering, you realize?”

“How so?” Erik looked at Raoul.

“You're an intellectual, Erik, a genius, you could hold any number of conversations with other young men or even the learned generations, you would be easily accepted and I just know you-”

“Raoul, I think you're forgetting something.” Erik tapped his mask.

Raoul blushed, “Erik . . . do you ever stop to think that maybe people can see beyond the physical?”

“Raoul, you are an exception, you've seen many sides of me, facets that I've never shared with anyone . . . you've seen me at my lowest, without my mask and out of control . . . you've heard me sing and play . . . and you've been in my bed . . . I doubt there are many people who could look deeper than you have.” Erik shook his head, “I'm not one of them.”

“Who is 'them'?” Raoul blinked at him.

“ . . . normal people, Raoul.” Erik shrugged, looking into the fire.

“I see,” Raoul stood up, “Alright, then I won't push you.”

“Thank you.” Erik opened one of the books and went back to reading.

* * *

Raoul was mildly aware of Erik watching him, “What?”

Erik sat back on the bed, smiling and resting back on his hands, “Nothing, pet, I'm watching you undress.”

Raoul raised an eyebrow, “You are so strange.”

“As if you don't watch me disrobe.” Erik rolled his eyes.

Raoul snorted, “Don't flatter yourself, I’m no voyeur.”

Erik raised an eyebrow and stood up, he walked up to Raoul and stood right in front of him, Erik's finger hooked the waist of his own trousers, he tugged them off in one movement. Raoul stood back and crossed his arms, his eyes panning up Erik's long, muscular legs, torso, neck and finally locking eyes with him.

“Do you want something?”

Erik said nothing and stepped out of his pants, his fingers deftly running up his shirt and undoing each button until the cloth fell off his shoulders to join his pants, he crossed his arms and tilted his head back,

“There, you just watched me undress.”

“And you're the mature one?” Raoul chuckled, walking around Erik and trailing a finger down the taller man's spine, exuding a shudder out of Erik.

“Obviously.” Erik retorted, turning and lifting Raoul into his arms and dumping him onto the bed.

“Hm, maybe in some aspects, but I'd say you are perpetually stuck as a child.” Raoul crossed his arms.

Erik grinned at the banter, he stretched out next to Raoul, the younger slid his mask off and then his wig, Erik closed his eyes while Raoul ran his fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp.

“Hmm, that feels good . . . “ Erik purred, stretching onto his belly and sighing.

Raoul climbed up onto Erik's back and started to rub his back and shoulders, exuding more moans of pleasure from Erik, Raoul smiled and continued working his fingers up and down Erik's scarred back.

“Oh . . . Raoul~!” Erik moaned, his toes curled and he writhed under Raoul, “ . . . right there.”

Raoul kneaded the knotted muscles until they came loose, he could feel every breath, every heartbeat, every twitch, spasm, and jump of Erik's body under his hands and the effect of Erik's writhing and moaning soon got a respond out of Raoul.

Erik rolled slowly over, his hands going to Raoul's hips, he smiled slightly up at Raoul, “I love you, Raoul.”

Raoul, flushed and, breathing heavily, gasped out, “I love you, too, Erik . . . “

Erik sat up slowly, holding Raoul to his chest and started to kiss him, his lips moving expertly against Raoul's, tongue sliding over the perfect white teeth and entering the moist warmth of Raoul's own mouth. Raoul moaned into the kiss, his fingers tangling in Erik's brown hair, feeling the silky strands slip in his grip. He felt Erik's hands go down to support his backside, lifting him while Erik rearranged his legs and sat up, Raoul leaned forward, his arms going around Erik's neck and he closed his eyes, waiting expectantly. Erik's hand moved up and he sucked on his fingers loudly, sliding them back down to Raoul's hind-end and inserted one into him.

Raoul hissed his approval and squeezed his legs around Erik's waist, Erik pumped his finger in and out of Raoul slowly before exiting and lifting Raoul a bit to better enter him. Raoul arched as he was filled, his mouth open in a silent moan, fingers digging into Erik's shoulders before he settled back into Erik's lap and sighed,

“So, you won't come to the party with me?”

Erik didn't answer, his eyes were closed as he leaned back on the headboard and pushed up into Raoul.

“Erik?”

“I'm thinking.” Erik mumbled, his expression strained and he grit his teeth.

Raoul stared at him and then sighed, running his fingers across Erik's chest, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Erik's neck, trailing up to his ear, licking the lobe slowly, he smiled when Erik's breathing hitched and his hips jerked up.

“Hard to think when you do that . . . “ Erik muttered, opening his eyes and glaring at Raoul.

“Then give me an answer.” Raoul sat back on Erik, making the older man snarl and squeeze his eyes shut, his hands getting a painfully tight grip on Raoul's hips.

Erik caught his breath and looked at Raoul, one of his hands began to slide along the protruding pelvis bone to his inner thigh, his thumb stroking the edge of the blondish curls. Raoul hissed, arching his back desperately. Erik smirked, his other hand making a similar migration until Raoul was shaking and had both hands gripping Erik's wrists.

“Do you want an answer or the alternative?” Erik asked softly, his hips rolling up into Raoul at a quickened pace.

“Ah-h! N-No, just . . . just- Nnnngh!” Raoul panted, arching his back and gasping.

“I thought so.” Erik's hand snapped down and took Raoul's cock, his thumb pressing on the head while he dragged his fist slowly up the length and then back down again.

“D-Don't tease me!” Raoul pleaded, his legs trembled and his whole body seemed to be blushing.

Erik chuckled and continued his leisurely pace, slowing his own thrusts and relaxing, “Why not? You have the most fascinating facial expressions when I prolong this.”

“No, you're just being down-right sadistic!” Raoul accused, but it felt so good . . .

“Me? Sadistic? Why, Raoul, how could you say such a thing?” Erik's eyes widened with false shock.

“It's true!” Raoul snapped, pushing emphatically into Erik's fist.

Erik chuckled and intensified his motions until Raoul was once more reduced to a sweating, panting mess, although it would be untruthful if Erik didn't admit to being incredibly lost in his own ecstasy. Raoul grit his teeth and came onto Erik's stomach and subsequently clenched down on Erik,

“Agh!” Erik yelped, shoving his hips up roughly into Raoul and then collapsing onto the duvet.

Raoul smiled tiredly above Erik, his eyes drooping closed as he climbed off the bed and got a handkerchief to clean Erik up with. Erik watched with a dazed look on his face,

“Hm . . . you still want an answer?”

“Yes . . . “ Raoul stopped and bit his lip anxiously.

Erik turned down the sheets and beckoned for Raoul to join him, Raoul slid down to lie next to Erik, his head resting on Erik's chest. Neither spoke for a moment until Raoul couldn't stand it anymore,

“Enough with the dramatic pause, will you or won't you come with me to the party?” Raoul propped himself up on his elbow, raising an eyebrow at Erik.

Erik smiled, running the back of his hand over Raoul's cheek, “You are so beautiful when you're impatient, pet . . . yes, I will go with you.”

Raoul's eyes widened, “W-What?”

“Are you deaf as well as handsome?” Erik chuckled, closing his eyes and pulling Raoul down on the bed.

“You're not just saying that to get me to leave you alone, are you?” Raoul prodded Erik's belly.

Erik grunted and shifted away from Raoul's finger, “No, I thought about it and I made the decision that it will no doubt look suspicious if a young man wants an entire estate to himself and doesn't wish his parents to visit, so, why not? That and if you continue to go to parties alone and leave them alone, someone is bound to notice and wonder. I think I should meet your parents and maybe this 'socializing' won't be so bad. I mean, if a bunch of fops with long surnames can do it, then why not I? I'm sure I could master the simple arts of consorting with the bourgeois.”

Raoul blinked at him, “'The simple art'? Oh, dear, Erik, you've never met higher-ups, have you?”

“No, why?” Erik blinked at Raoul.

“No reason.” Raoul sighed, shaking his head and closing his eyes.

 


	8. A Parade of Masks

Erik leaned away, clenching his teeth and emphatically shaking his head, “No.”

“No?” Raoul blinked in surprise, “But, you said you would! Erik, up to three seconds ago, you agreed to come with me!”

“Yes, well, up to three seconds ago I wasn't in my right mind! You can't hold to anything I've said up 'til now!” Erik backed up another step, his back pressed to the wall.

“Erik, come on! We were supposed to leave already!” Raoul looked frantically to the door, “Please, you promised you'd go!”

Erik shook his head again, “Leave without me!”

Raoul stared at him, looking at the tuxedo that Erik was wearing, everything had been going fine, Erik even seemed excited while they were getting dressed, until he looked in the mirror and then he froze as if something like a switch went off in his brain and he immediately refused to leave.

“No.” Raoul's eyes got a steely gleam to them and he grabbed Erik's wrist.

Erik blinked, “No? But, I-”

“I said 'no', you agreed to come and I won't have you skulking around the manor just because you've had a change of heart.” Raoul said firmly, dragging Erik to the door and wrenching it open.

“Raoul, please, I don't want to go!!” Erik dug his heels in like a child, tugging back on Raoul's grip.

“You're going and that's final!” Raoul snapped, and pushed Erik into the coach.

* * *

The ride to the party was less than pleasant, Raoul glared out the window and Erik seemed twice as anxious and started to fidget, drumming his fingers on his knees and biting his lip, finally Raoul couldn't take it anymore,

“Erik, this is for your own good, you need to be among people, and it isn't healthy for you to constantly live under the impression that all people are judgmental and cruel.”

Erik looked up at Raoul, tapping his foot slightly, “ . . . if you say so.”

“Trust me, I wouldn't make you do something that would be harmful to you.” Raoul reached out a hand and gingerly touched Erik's cheek.

“Alright . . . I trust you.” Erik sighed, nodding his head a bit.

“Good.” Raoul grinned and sat back.

Erik tried to grin back, but his face seemed to be stuck in a grimace.

* * *

“Mother! Father!” Raoul beamed and hugged each of his parents in turn.

“Raoul, darling, you look so pale!” His mother exclaimed, kissing each of Raoul's cheeks and holding his face in her hands.

“Well, Mother, there isn't much sunlight in England . . . “ Raoul grimaced at his mother's fussing.

“Go on, Jacqueline, let the boy be!” Raoul's father chuckled, patting Raoul's shoulder heartily.

“Jean-Luc, he's my youngest, I'll fuss over him if I want!” Jacqueline scowled, turning back to Raoul, “How was England?”

“Oh,” Raoul's ears reddened, he could feel Erik's eyes on him, “Dark, gloomy, and wet, honestly I spent almost the whole time indoors reading, listening to music . . . oh, I went to a few operas and I had a few suits made for me.”

“Lounging about and carousing then, eh, Raoul?” Jean-Luc smiled.

Erik observed from a distance, Raoul's mother was a short, petite woman with long blonde hair and brown eyes while Raoul's father was tall, a little heavy in the waist with curly dark brown hair and blue eyes, yet, Erik could see both of them in Raoul. But the bit that interested Erik most was how Raoul's mother and father fawned over him, his mother brushing the front of his coat and his father gripping his shoulder warmly. Erik blinked at such behavior, it was strange . . . he'd found a shade of this sort of affection from Tom and Madam Giry, but this was so much stronger . . . not better, not really any different, it just seemed like Raoul had received love from the very beginning. Erik leaned against the wall, he felt like a piece of him was missing, that it was only partially filled . . . he swallowed as tears welled up in his eyes, he was about to scurry off to a dark corner, but then someone called his name,

“Erik?”

Erik looked up, Raoul was beckoning him over, Erik hesitantly pushed off the wall, straightened his tuxedo jacket, and walked over to them. He could see Raoul's parents outwardly jumped at his sudden appearance . . . like a ghost out of the shadows.

“Mother, Father, this is my friend Erik . . . um,” Raoul's eyes glanced at Erik frantically.

Erik cleared his throat, “Erik Emerson, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintances.”

Erik held his hand out to Raoul's father, who eventually took it after wracking his brain for any Emerson's that he knew of in his personal circles,

“Pleasure, I'm sure. I hope Raoul didn't give you too much trouble.” Jean-Luc smiled slightly, his eyes falling uneasily on Erik's mask.

“Well, he can be a handful, but we got on just fine.” Erik smiled good-naturedly.

Raoul blinked at Erik, he'd even adopted a slight English accent, noticeable, but not entirely overpowering, not like Tom's, but still very convincing. Erik went on about how he was a composer and that his latest work he hoped to put forth for an opera in the very near future and of his humble estate in the English countryside (imaginary as it was).

Raoul was just starting to think that they could pull this off when-

“Raoul!”

They all looked around and there were several young fellows came into the room.

“Beale, Etienne, Marceau!” Raoul laughed, rushing up to greet the fellows.

Erik blinked at the quartet of men, “And they are?”

“Oh, some of Raoul's school friends from when he was a boy.” Jean-Luc explained, smiling.

“I see.” Erik nodded slowly, slinking back so no one would notice him, yes, it had all gone very well, then people started to come in droves and Raoul was constantly surrounded by gaggles of females or a group of boisterous males, and Erik continued to shrink farther into the background.

Raoul pulled away from yet another crowd and made his way to where Erik was standing,

“Sorry, love, I just can't seem to get away for long.”

Erik nodded slowly, “I can see that.”

“Come on, I want you to meet-”

“Raoul, come here and see this enchanting young woman!” A young man (as if Erik could remember every one of them by name) grabbed Raoul's arm only to stop and stare at Erik, “Oh, um, sorry, I didn't see you there, Momsieur . . . ?”

“Emerson, Erik Emerson.” Erik said shortly, glaring the young man into looking away.

“Enchanted, I'm sure.” He smiled tightly and attempted to tug Raoul away again, “Come on, Raoul.”

“Oh, um, wait, Marceau, I-” Raoul looked back apologetically to Erik and resigned to being led away by Marceau.

Erik blinked and stood there for a second, then he could hear people whispering,

“ . . . why the mask?”

“ . . . who is he?”

“. . . . England or something . . . “

Erik was about to turn and find a secluded part of the house to hide in, but then he saw a woman putting her hands on Raoul's shoulders and they moved to the dance floor . . . that was the final straw, Erik's blood boiled and he was certain his face was contorted in a snarl as he made his way toward the pair, shoving people out of his way, his hand dropping heavily on Raoul's shoulder,

“If I may interrupt.” Erik's voice was low and extremely close to a growl.

Raoul opened his mouth to say something along the lines of 'what do you think you are doing?!', but the young woman beat him to it,

“By all means, Monsieur, take him.” She grimaced at him disdainfully and pulled away from Raoul.

Erik's glared after the girl, putting one hand firmly on Raoul's waist and the other taking Raoul's (which was still hanging in mid-air) and took the first step in the dance (perhaps a little more forcefully than necessary). Raoul blinked out of his stupor and glanced around,

“What are you doing?” He hissed, noting that more than a few people were paying them any mind.

“Dancing, suddenly I give a damn that someone else had their hands on you.” Erik growled, leaning forward and hissing in Raoul's ear, “I will not have it.”

Raoul grit his teeth, looking sideways at Erik, “My, my, aren't we a jealous bastard?”

“If you don't like it, then I'll just go back to the Opera House.” Erik threatened, “You _will_ dance with me.”

Raoul sighed, “Alright, don't get so possessive. I really wish you wouldn't do this.”

“Why ever not?” Erik turned them, he seemed to have calmed down again.

“Well, it isn't natural for two men to be dancing like this . . . people will talk.” Raoul grimaced as he caught the eyes of some of his peers.

“It isn't?” Erik raised an eyebrow, his hand sliding dangerously close to Raoul's backside.

“No, well, I mean that, it just isn't done, you see? Men dance with the women and . . . and . . . oh, nevermind.” Raoul sighed.

“I don't understand why two people who love each other can't dance together, it is absurd.” Erik snorted and continued to dance.

They moved over the dance floor, but then Erik started getting comfortable, pulling Raoul closer and grinding his crotch into Raoul's, causing the younger to blush deeply,

“E-Erik, don't do this in _public_!”

“As if they haven't already figured us out?” Erik smiled against Raoul's neck, kissing it lightly.

Raoul sighed as the music came to a merciful end and he was able to pull Erik away from the other dancing couples. They found a corner of the room relatively free of people, but it didn't last. Soon they were both surrounded by young men and women all chatting about such mundane pleasantries that Erik felt his mind beginning to rot, he sighed heavily, rolling his eyes and leaning back on the wall, unfortunately, one of Raoul's chums noticed this,

“I'm sorry, Monsieur Emerson, do we bore you?” Etienne asked smirking at him and immediately drawing everyone's attention to him.

“Not in the slightest, I merely find how you spend your spare time to be incredibly fanciful and without purpose.” Erik shrugged dismissively.

“Without purpose, you say? And how is that?” Etienne crossed his arms defensively, drawing up to his full height.

Erik raised an eyebrow, “Well, if you could explain to me how fifteen men on horseback and almost twenty dogs chasing one solitary fox can be ever considered 'sporting', then perhaps I won't find it so crude and barbaric.”

“If I'm not mistaken, it is the English that brought the idea to France, so you think your own people are barbaric? As I've been told you are indeed from England.” Etienne challenged.

“Quite, but then, I find almost all people to be culturally backward and morally corrupt. I wonder how the fox would feel?” Erik glared at him, “But then again, if it does indeed take that many men, horses, and dogs to catch the fox, one has to wonder who the superior creature is in the hunt.”

“I see, then what is it that you do, Monsieur Emerson, that puts you so high above us mere mortals?” Etienne smiled but his eyes were narrowed.

“I, my good sir, am a composer, musician, artist, architect, magician, singer, opera writer, actor, and intellectual genius. I spend my time writing and playing music, reading, painting, and engaging my mind in other such activities with the aim of expanding my knowledge because any fool can chase after a fox, but it would seem to take a true genius to slog through this ridiculous and wholly unenlightened conversation.” Erik tilted his head back and sneered.

They all seemed stunned and Raoul couldn't be prouder, he glanced at Erik and saw the confidence and smugness that was present in most of the men that surrounded them. Etienne seemed to regain his wits and cleared his throat,

“You say you are a musician, a composer?”

“Yes, I am.” Erik narrowed his eyes, so the fool did not know defeat when it smacked him across the face, eh?

“Well, then, there is a piano, let us hear one of your pieces.”

Erik stared at the piano for a moment, to some it looked like hesitation, but Raoul knew that Erik was measuring the bench height, the make of the piano, how old it was, and he could probably tell if it was in tune or not by gauging the amount of dust on the exposed keys. He nodded and made his way fluidly to the instrument, sitting down at the bench and spreading his fingers over the keys, people gathered close when they noticed Erik about to play, Raoul could see how uneasy this made Erik, but the masked man bit his lip and pressed down on the keys..

What followed was nothing short of a heart-stopping composition, Erik's whole focus shifted from the loud, aggravating crowd of people to the music and it was, in a word, magical. Everyone stopped what they were doing, even the ten person orchestra stopped playing, and listened to Erik as a soft song that spoke to all of them of love, loss, and patched hearts. The melodies and harmonies stretched through the house and fell into the silence, wrapping them all in its simple beauty. And when Erik's hands finally stilled on the ivory and the songs last, lingering note faded into the hush of the gathered multitude, they were all worse for it. Erik slowly stood, turning to Etienne and his now-silent cronies,

“I call it, 'A Twist in Destiny'.” He said calmly, then he turned and made his way to the table with glasses of champagne.

A few minutes later, Raoul excused himself and hurried to stand next to Erik, “You are nothing short of amazing.”

Erik downed his glass and then turned to look at Raoul, “I wouldn't say that at all, I was showing off.”

“And still, you manage to give off nothing of the pompous airs that they waited for.” Raoul reached over, taking a glass, “A toast to you, my very good gentleman, Monsieur Emerson.”

Erik looked at Raoul, his face slightly flushed as yet another glass of alcohol was drained into his body, he lifted his empty glass and then hiccupped.

Raoul blinked at him, then at the glasses on the table, “Um, Erik, I think you shouldn't drink so much.”

Erik hiccupped again and then leaned forward, pressing his lips to Raoul's, his tongue slathered the startled blonde's lips and he groaned softly. Raoul tried to push Erik off, but he was bigger and heavier, besides, he didn't seem to be able to hold his own weight up anymore.

“Erik? Are you . . . drunk?” Raoul looked around frantically.

“No, what a ridiculous notion.” Erik smiled blearily, reaching up to trace Raoul's jaw with one finger.

Raoul blushed and groaned, Erik giggled and tried to stand up, but almost fell over, luckily Raoul grabbed him and tugged him closer to better keep him upright.

“Seems the intellectual is, as the English put it, _sloshed_.”

Raoul looked over in dismay as Marceau and Beale walked over, both snickering at a drunk Erik, “You two aren't very helpful.”

“Oh, fine, we'll give you a hand.” Beale set his glass of brandy down.

They were each about to get a hold of Erik under each arm, but Erik yelped and clung tighter onto Raoul, pushing away from both of the young men, Raoul sighed heavily, patting Erik's shoulder,

“I guess I'll have to take him up to one of the rooms to sober up, he doesn't really know you two.”

Both his friends shrugged and went back to a group of girls, Raoul huffed and half-dragged, half-carried Erik to one of the guest rooms,

“You are in so much trouble for this, Erik.” Raoul grumbled, dumping Erik on the bed, he was rubbing his eyebrows and turning to leave when he felt a hand on his elbow.

Erik was sitting up, gripping Raoul's sleeve and tugging on him,

“Raoul?”

“Yes?” Raoul stopped and looked at him.

“I believe I am drunk . . . “ Erik mumbled, blinking up at him and grinning widely.

“Yes, yes you are.” Raoul sighed, sitting down next to Erik, “How much did you drink?”

“I can't recall. Perhaps . . . ten or twelve . . . ?” Erik slurred, shrugging, “Raoul?”

“Hm?” Raoul put a hand on Erik's back, knowing that tomorrow he'd have hung-over-Erik to deal with.

“Make love to me?” Erik mumbled, his eyes almost closing.

“Erik, I don't think that-”

Erik huffed in annoyance and flopped back on the bed, pulling one of his knees up and pushing his hips up, “Now.”

Raoul stared at him, “We'll get caught.”

“I don't care.”

“Someone might hear or see us, Erik!”

“I don't  _care_.”

“Erik, be reasonable, I mean-”

“Raoul,” Erik grabbed Raoul's hand, tugging him forcefully onto the bed, “I'm am sick to death of being reasonable and intelligent, just . . . let me be."

Raoul swallowed thickly, “Al-Alright, just calm down.”

“I wish I wasn't the way I am sometimes, you know? . . . I wish I could be like everyone else. Boring, simple . . . ” Erik mumbled, closing his eyes and letting Raoul undo his pants.

“I don't, I love you just the way you are.” Raoul murmured, pushing Erik's shirt up slightly and kissing the Phantom's belly.

“ . . . I-” Erik blinked, looking down at Raoul, his fingers slipping to the blonde hair, stroking it gently.

Raoul went about kissing Erik's belly, moving to his thigh, nuzzling into the brown curls at the crook of his leg, Erik moaned, letting his head flop back on the bed, he shoved on his pants, trying to get them off, Raoul obliged to remove his shoes first, then he helped Erik off with his pants,

“Better?”

“I'd rather be completely naked, Raoul.” Erik mumbled, fumbling with his shirt, Raoul put a stilling hand on Erik's hands.

“Can't do that right now, Erik, just be calm.”

Erik blinked and nodded, letting his hands fall on either of his sides, pulling his knees up and closing his eyes while Raoul ran his fingers up into Erik's shirt, feeling his taunt nipples with his fingertips, squeezing them lightly. Erik moaned softly, curling his spine and pushing his hips up more, he clambered onto his hands and knees, swaying slightly while he tried to keep his balance on the bed while drunk. Raoul sighed, undoing his pants and sliding his half-hard cock out, stroking it quickly into fullness and spitting into his hand, one or two more quick stroke and he moved to mount Erik. Erik panted as Raoul started to enter him, his own cock dripping, he smiled, tilting his head back a bit,

“ . . . this feels so natural . . . why would anyone think badly of us if they knew . . .?” Erik groaned, rocking back onto Raoul's manhood, his fingers searching out his erection and pumping his fist along it.

Raoul clenched his teeth and tucked his head into Erik's shoulders, the wondering of whether or not it was a good idea to give in to a drunken man's demands in the middle of a party in someone else's house flitting through the Vicomte’s mind, but Raoul conceded that since it was his parents’ house and not some stranger’s or an old friend’s, it wasn't the worst place, right?

Raoul pushed into Erik, grunting with the effort, his hands digging into Erik's sides, he could feel Erik tensing up and then relaxing, then something incredibly strange happened, Erik fell forward onto his stomach, Raoul held in a yelp of surprise and picked himself up off the Phantom,

“Erik? What's wrong?” Raoul leaned forward, there was no response, “Erik?”

There was a loud snore and Raoul pulled out, blinking down at the sleeping man,

“You are unbelievable . . . “ Raoul sighed, looking down at his engorged cock, he wrapped his fingers around his member, pushing down on it, hissing softly as a wave of pleasure rolled through his body, heating him up from the top of his head to his toes, he sighed, scooting up to the headboard and finishing the job, biting down hard on his knuckles to stop from making too much noise. When he finally caught his breath and tucked back into his pants, he had the arduous task of getting Erik back into his pants and then facing the party for a few more hours.

* * *

Erik opened his eyes and immediately regretted it, “Dear Lord, my _head_. . . “

Raoul walked into the bedroom and looked down at Erik, “Well, glad to see you're still among the living.”

“Barely . . . oh no.” Erik leaped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, vomiting into the toilet.

Raoul leaned on the doorway, “I couldn't believe you drank that much . . . “

“Neither can I.” Erik muttered, “How did I get home?”

“I had to carry you.” Raoul sighed, “If you're going to be like this at all social gatherings, then I will thank you to stay home.”

Erik rubbed his forehead and took a deep breath, “I did not intend to drink so much . . . I was nervous.”

“I see, well, I'm going down to supper, are you-”

“Supper? How long was I sleeping?” Erik blinked at Raoul in shock.

“Most of the day.” Raoul shrugged.

“God . . . my head . . . it feels like it's going to break open . . . “ Erik moaned, sitting back on the floor and closing his eyes.

“I'll send something up for you. Get some rest." Raoul stroked Erik's hair before turning to leave, "And next time perhaps try not to drown yourself in alcohol? Hm?"

Erik gave Raoul a withering look before the blonde ducked out of the room.

* * *

Erik watched Raoul leave, noting a steady ache in his backside, he stood up, cracking his neck and stretching, he looked at himself in the mirror, last night was a blur, but he was more than certain there had been a party, several annoying people, and music . . . well, there had definitely been alcohol, but . . . why was he so sore and tired? Erik dug through his brain, trying to pick out what had happened last night, he remembered the previously mentioned topics . . . there had to be something that happened after he got drunk, some sort of-

“Oh . . . “ Erik blinked as it sluggishly came back to him, he'd fallen asleep on Raoul.

He sighed and got dressed, hurrying down the stairs, searching about until he found Raoul in one of the studies, going over some sort of document, Erik hesitantly knocked on the open door. Raoul glanced up then went back to his papers,

“Yes?”

“I just remembered last night, I'm sorry, that was a perfect display of a person being an ass.” Erik moved into the room.

“I suppose it was.” Raoul didn't even look up this time.

Erik stood in front of the desk, “Raoul?”

“Hm?”

“I'd like to make up for it.” Erik offered hopefully.

Raoul looked up slowly, his expression one of the utmost patience, “Is that right?”

“Yes,” Erik walked around the desk, his fingers trailing on the wood, “Very much so.”

Raoul waited until Erik was standing in front of him, one of his hands slid across the gap between them to drape over Erik's hip,

“Hm, well, you do seem repentant.” Raoul observed, his thumb slipping under Erik's shirt, rubbing at his warm flesh.

Erik nodded, “Yes . . . “

“And sober.”

“Yes.”

“Hm, on the desk then.” Raoul stood up, shuffling his papers and making room for Erik.

The masked man jolted in surprise at Raoul's tone, but he obeyed, sitting on the desk patiently while Raoul undid his waist coat, sliding it off and moving forward and catching Erik's lips in a deep kiss. Erik let Raoul dominate the kiss, as difficult as it was for him to relinquish control of the situation, he trusted Raoul and really, at this point, he wasn't too concerned. Erik was lying almost on his back, propping himself up on his elbows while Raoul pushed his shirt up, his fingers stroking Erik's stomach and slipping down to his waist. Erik pushed his feet up onto the desk for better access, feeling Raoul pulling his pants down a bit.

“I have to admit,” Raoul said softly, kissing Erik's stomach lightly, “I was so proud of you.”

“You were?” Erik panted, letting his head fall back, staring at the ceiling light.

“Yes, how you stood up to my idiot friends and showed them all what you can do . . . so brave, confident . . . I suppose a little reward is called for.”

“Is that right?” Erik moaned, gripping the desk edges tight enough to make his knuckles white.

“It never ceases to amaze me, how you can pretend to be so inadequate in a social gathering and then surprise me and prove to be quite the opposite. And how you blew them all away with that song, I know for a fact that you conjured that up off the top of your head, snarky bastard, making them think you'd been working on it for a long time, I-”

“Good god, is this how it feels when I monologue?” Erik interrupted impatiently.

“Yes, yes it is.” Raoul smiled mischievously.

“Then I promise I will never do that again.” Erik shook his head, “Can we move on, please?”

“Of course, my love.” Raoul smiled, standing up and leaning over Erik, kissing him deeply.

“Mmph.” Erik moaned into the kiss, closing his eyes and wrapping his legs around Raoul's waist.

Raoul pulled back slowly, sucking tenderly on Erik's bottom lip, pushing farther until he was practically lying on top of Erik,

“Tell me how sorry you are for getting so drunk.” Raoul commanded in a harsh whisper, his fingers gripping either of Erik's hips.

“I'm sorry, darling, so sorry . . . “ Erik moaned, his eyes closed, mouth open in a slight pant.

“I can't hear you, Erik.” Raoul insisted, pressing his cock against Erik's entrance.

Erik keened, trying to push back onto Raoul, “I'm sorry Raoul, pet, please . . . I'm so sorry, I am!”

Raoul grinned, liking this new hold he had over Erik, “Yes, I believe you, darling, you're forgiven.”

Erik smiled with relief, hitching his hips upward excitedly, “Raoul . . . “

Raoul nodded, leaning into Erik and he began a slow, steady pace, his fingers sliding between them to take Erik's cock, stroking in sync with his thrusts. Erik moaned, tangling his fingers in Raoul's long blonde hair, noting that it hung below the boy's shoulders now. Erik curled his spine, kissing along Raoul's jaw and mouthing his neck, leaving small, dark bruises. Raoul rolled his hips against Erik, closing his eyes and enjoying the tight feeling surrounding his cock.

“You feel so good . . . “ Raoul murmured in Erik's ear, kissing the auricle gently, mouthing the lobe.

Erik grinned in sexual bliss, feeling his whole body lighting up as if on fire, “I love you.”

Raoul smiled, pushing further into Erik until he felt the older man tense as pleasure made stars erupt in his vision and he inhaled sharply,

“R-Raoul . . . harder!”

Raoul pushed harder per Erik's request and soon the Phantom was coming thickly into Raoul's hand, his chest heaving and eyelids drooping as the afterglow settled on him like a heavy blanket. Raoul pulled out and pulled Erik into a sitting position, cuddling him to his chest.

“You made some very big steps these past few days . . . I want you to know how proud I really am of you.”

Erik nodded slowly, holding onto Raoul's shoulders, his head tucked under Raoul's chin.

“And, I want to tell you that, I know it's been difficult for you, what with all these new experiences and losing Tom . . . . I'm glad that you keep trying even though I understand that you're apprehensive and I know that you're scared, it means so much that you want to be part of my world like I want to be part of yours.”

Erik said nothing.

“Erik?” Raoul leaned back to peer down at Erik, “Are you li-?”

Erik snored loudly and curled up tighter against Raoul.

“You are so impossible.” Raoul muttered, settling down in his chair while pulling a sleeping Erik into his lap, shaking his head and smiling.

 


End file.
